Something Old, Something New
by Victoria May
Summary: NEW: Chapters 23! ERs Dr. John Carter is offered a job at SGC by Dr. Janet Frasier (crossover)
1. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: ER/ characters are property of nbc, warner bros, constant c, amblin, etc. Stargate-SG1/ characters are property of showtime/ viacom, mgm/ua, double secret productions, and gekko productions. this is written purely for enjoyment purposes only-no profit involved.   
  
SPOILERS: ER/ Night Shift, Exodus, My Brother's Keeper, Be Still My Heart, All In the Family, May Day. Stargate-SG1/ none.  
  
Something Old, Something New  
By: Victoria F.  
  
  
John Carter sat pretending to review the chart he held weakly in his hand. He had been staring at the same chart for almost an hour now. Had anyone bothered to pay attention to the solitary doctor, they may have noticed this. They may also have noticed the slump of his shoulders, the occasional temple rub, and the glassy stare. Some may have misconstrued this to be a sign that the young doctor had again fallen prey to the cravings of a weak soul. They would have been wrong. No one would have guessed what really lay behind such a dismal front.   
  
Sighing suddenly, and shaking his head wearily, the resident scratched his signature across the bottom and silently closed the chart, adding it to the pile that had steadily grown taller as the night wore on. His muscles screamed out in pain as he pulled himself out of the chair he had claimed several hours ago. Cursing under his breath, he massaged his back as well as his long arms would allow. A quick glance over his right shoulder alerted him to the small group of nurses and med students hovering near the nurse's station. Not feeling particularly social, he turned and walked the other way, towards the lounge.   
  
The handsome doctor's subtle retreat did not go unnoticed however. Laughing at Yosh's joke, nodding at Lydia's comment about the man who came in wearing nothing but tights, and a casually tossed excuse about needing to freshen up parted the mass allowing the pretty Asian doctor to pass through. Jing Mei walked with as much nonchalance as she could muster, pausing near the ladies room door, stealing a look towards the desk; seeing that no one was watching she kept walking. Placing her petite hand against the lounge door, Jing Mei gingerly pushed it open and slipped into the room.   
  
John stood with his back to the door, as if looking out one of the large windows decorating the rear wall. Dirt smudged across the window obscured the view, but it went unseen by the brown eyes clenched tightly closed, holding back tears which threatened to fall at any moment. Hearing the door open behind him, John's eyes flew open and he held his breath, hoping that whoever had come in, would have sense enough to leave him alone. He waited, expecting to hear coffee being poured into a cup, or cabinets opening and closing, but instead heard only silence. Finally accepting that his refuge had been compromised, John slowly turned to face the intruder.   
  
Jing Mei's breath caught as John turned away from the window to face her. She wasn't prepared to see the look of total and utter defeat which hung over John's face and body. His eyes, usually so alive and energized were now lifeless and empty. She should have known that his self-inflicted exile from any fraternization amongst hospital colleagues was a sign of. . . something, but this? What could have sparked this total seclusion? Had no one noticed what was happening? Had everyone taken him so at his word that they left him so completely alone to spiral into this shell of a person?   
  
Perhaps it was because he seemed so sincere about needing space to find his place again among them, a place which had seemingly dissolved as soon as he got on the plane to Atlanta. It was only natural for his colleagues to return to some form of normalcy, even without him there. They had afterall, had practice after Lucy had died and John was down for the count. A team can't win when one of its players is out of the game, if they leave a gaping hole where that player should be. They close in, making that space smaller, less of a handicap. They fall into new roles, new routines. Then, when the player is thrown back into the game, there is no room. For a while, they aren't even needed, so adept are the other players in their new positions.   
  
But it had been two months now since John had returned to Chicago, and he was still on the outside looking in. Jing Mei hesitated to lay blame on any one person or event that may have caused this. In reality, it was probably an accumulation of many things. The shame that John wore like a brand, never faltering. The looks cast his way when they were sure he couldn't see. The rumors that more than once made their way to his ears whilst in the men's room or behind a high shelf in the storage room. And more pronounced was the feeling of betrayal felt by all in how the entire situation had come to be handled. Questions left unanswered, spurned on by the sudden disappearance of the prodigal son-resurging when he suddenly reappeared a shadow of his former self. Self recriminations that the intervention was in itself damaging and hostile. And finally, the slew of endless shifts and personal trials, trampling any thoughts of contacting John while he was in Atlanta. So that come August, the damage had been done.  
  
Now, all that was left were the shattered pieces that no glue seemed strong enough to hold together. Oh, they had all tried, in one way or another. A smile here, a word of kindness there. Idle chitchat while waiting for the elevator. Compliments on the agile work his hands made of trauma after trauma. But still he withdrew, until they finally left him to face his demons alone.   
  
Jing Mei stood, facing the man she had once called 'friend'. She hesitated to call him that now. She shuddered as his blank eyes stared past her, lost in some other place, some other time. Her mind stumbled, trying to find the words to reach him, to let him know he was not as alone as he must feel. But what words were strong enough to combat this impenetrable barrier?   
  
"John, are you alright?" Oh, that's great Jing Mei. The million dollar question. And here's the million dollar answer. . ..  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"You're not fine. You look terrible." That's comforting, why not be honest and tell him he looks like shit? No response, that's not good. Okay, come on Jing Mei, try another one.  
  
"Do you want to talk?" Mmn, psycho babble, I'm sure that'll get his attention. Wait! Did I just see his eyebrow raise just a little with that one?  
  
"I'm on break-I have time." Oh, he shifted to his other leg, definite interest. That's good, come on, you can do it big fella. Just tell me what spirit possessed your body so I can exorcise it and have my friend back.  
  
"Mn, yea. . .I gue. s.. s."   
  
Was that a yes? Did he just agree to talk to me? Don't look happy Jing Mei, you don't want to scare him off. Please G_d! Don't let anyone come in!  
  
Jing Mei quietly sat on one of the black leather couches and waited while John slowly walked over and sat across from her, slumping down as far as his tall frame would let him. The two doctors sat in silence for a moment. Finally, John opened his mouth and stunned Jing Mei with his words. He spoke so quietly Jing Mei had to lean forward to hear. She missed the first few, only to be startled by the next.  
  
" . . . and I just don't think I can stay here. Nothing's the same. I feel like I'm just going through the motions. I know I'm doing a good job, everyone keeps telling me so. But whenever I look up, I catch someone looking my way or when I walk by conversations stop. I think I've pushed Kerry and Dr. Benton as far away as they can go. They don't even try to talk to me anymore, outside of surgical consults or staff meetings.   
  
"And after Atlanta, I don't think anyone was really too interested in being my friend anyway. I don't think anyone would miss me if I leave. Jeez, no one even called let alone drop me a postcard while I was in rehab. Not that I really expected that; just . . . hoped.   
  
"And when I got back here, yeah, there was work for me to do. But I don't feel a part of this place anymore. Maybe because I've used up all my chances. Maybe I should have taken the hint back in February and not come back."  
  
John fell silent, and looked down at his hands, twisted together in some sort of gruesome reminder of how mangled his life had become. Why did he expect Jing Mei to understand? She had so much going for her now. Coming back to County was the best thing Jing Mei could have done. She's chief resident for G_d's sake! John was startled by the sound of Jing Mei's voice, gentle and reassuring.  
  
"Is that what you want John? Do you want to leave?" Jing Mei rose from her seat across from John and walked around the table between them, finally sitting next to him. Taking his hand in her own, she looked at his face and noticed that the emptiness had been replaced by sorrow and loneliness.   
  
"I don't blame you John if you think you have to leave. I forget how much you've been through. I've never been through what you have, and I forget. I'm so sorry that you've had to go through all of this alone. No one should ever have to endure what you've endured. You don't have to keep coming back. You don't have to stay."  
  
Jing Mei's words brought a flood of memories rushing into John's brain, and suddenly he was staring at the lifeless body of Chase, surviving only because of life support machines. He should have let him die. Instead, unable to face his own mistake, he had brought his cousin back from the cold edge of eternity. A babbling gork. . .. Then he saw the train, coming full speed down the rails, smashing into the body of his friend and roommate Dennis. John hadn't been there, but he'd seen the image so many times in his mind he could almost feel the air rush out of his own lungs when the train impacted. John couldn't bring him back. Hell, he couldn't even recognize him. That damn pager was the only identifying feature left on his mangled body. And finally, an image that was almost a friendly companion by now-Lucy's small body struggling to breath despite a gaping wound in her neck. Large, frightened eyes pleading with him to get up and help her. But he hadn't. He couldn't. Once again, he was forced to watch as another innocent life was taken.   
  
John felt something warm slide down his face. Reaching up, he realized he was crying. Jing Mei still clung to his other hand, a lifeline in his now defunct world of pain. Leaning forward, John lay his head in his lap and wrapped his free arm around his head. He let the tears come, some-years too late. He mourned for all that he had lost. He didn't notice as the lounge door opened and closed several times, as unsuspecting staff in hunt of caffeine or a quick bite noticed the pair and quickly backed out again. He didn't notice as Mark Greene quietly pushed open the door and kneeled on the floor beside him.   
  
Finally, his tears ceased and John sucked in a long breath. Starting to straighten, John was puzzled as a wet cloth appeared in front of his face. Arching his head upwards, he finally noticed Mark, firmly clutching the cloth. Mark handed John the wet cloth, which he accepted gratefully, and wiped at his damp face. He was glad his face was already flushed from crying, as he could feel it begin to burn again with humiliation that Mark had seen his display of weakness. As quickly as the cloth had appeared, it was taken away and in its place was a cup of cold water. John brought the cup to his lips with trembling fingers. The cool water was soothing as it slid down his parched throat.   
  
"Feel better?" Mark was perched on the edge of the opposite couch, in the spot Jing Mei had abandoned.   
  
'Feel better?' John could remember saying those exacts words to Abby after she had told Mark about the Fentanyl. John nodded his head numbly. Oddly, he did feel better. In those few moments of despair and comfort, John had made a decision. Reaching into his back pocket, John's fingers wrapped themselves around the crumpled letter. It had arrived last week and John had carried it with him every day since then. Fingering the envelope and rereading its contents whenever he was alone. He handed the envelope across to Mark and watched as his mentor pulled out the letter and began to read.  
  
Mark's eyes cycled through several different emotions before growing wide with the realization of what the letter meant.   
  
"Are you accepting?" Mark looked at the young doctor, finally noticing how young and tired he looked. Too tired for someone his age. Defeated-like he had given up on the hope that anything would ever be okay again. Mark silently prayed that John's answer was 'yes', despite what it would mean to lose him. John Carter had been at County for over six years, growing from a gangly, awkward rich kid to a damn fine doctor. Hell, he was going to waste here. His answer had better be 'yes'.   
  
Jing Mei's eyes were wide as she looked from John's expressionless face to Mark's intense look. What was in that letter? As if reading her mind, Mark handed the letter to her already outstretched hand. Jing Mei devoured the letter in seconds and sat back shocked. The military wanted John to work for them? At some top secret base out in Colorado?   
  
Jing Mei found her voice and held the letter out towards John. "John? What is this? How. . .?" Jing Mei was again at a loss for words and sat gaping at John, trying to comprehend what this all meant.   
  
John struggled to remember what had started it all. The Benzene leak which had contaminated the ER, putting Weaver and several other ER staff out of business. No one seemed to know what they were doing, the emergency manual was no where to be found, and help had yet to arrive. John had watched helplessly, unsure who was in charge. When he finally realized no one was in charge, his natural leadership surged forth. It wasn't often that there was room for his light to shine that brightly, but that day he was a hero. Taking charge of the situation, he had cleared the ER, staking out the cafeteria as the emergency staff's new playground. He'd even risked his own life to save that of a patient, contaminating himself with the Benzene in the process. He was an unsung hero that day, but he still left there feeling as though he had just saved the world. Unsung, but not unnoticed.   
  
Amongst the chaos, a lone figure watched the young doctor spring into life. Dr. Janet Fraiser, an Air Force physician, was among the contaminated victims that day. She had been in the ER consulting on an upcoming medical conference when all hell broke loose. She had watched as a young doctor, obviously an intern or resident, began to herd the patients and staff out of the ER and to safety. She watched as he used ice to revive a patient when the battery operated defibrillator refused to cooperate. She watched as he stood his ground when his actions were condemned. And finally, she had watched, most impressed, as his superior was given credit for the good save. She watched, and remembered.   
  
Almost three years later, the letter came. The military was looking for an emergency physician to work at a top secret military base at Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado. Would he be interested? He would be working closely with one Dr. Janet Frasier, head of the medical unit at the base. Enclosed was a hand written letter from Dr. Frasier, highlighting the now historic feat from long ago.   
  
John wasn't sure if he could ever bring himself to leave County. It was his home. This is where he grew from a child into a man. But at what price? And when would that fee ever be repaid? John felt like each day, a little bit of his soul was being stripped away, and he feared that one day he would be left with nothing but a hardened heart.   
  
Looking first at Jing Mei, then at Mark, John felt a smile tug at his lips and grow outwards until he was grinning. Mark could feel his own grin spread as a weight lifted from the almost oppressive atmosphere in the room. Laughing, he pulled John off the other couch and into a bear hug. Happy was not the word Mark felt in light of John's new adventure. Ecstatic, jubilee, joy, rapture. . . these words barely came close.   
  
Just then, the lounge door swung open and Luka Kovac walked in, his face immediately taking on a look of pure bewilderment.   
  
In response to his look, Mark replied, "Carter's joining the military!"  
  
"What?" Luka looked from John to Mark to Jing Mei.   
  
"I'll explain later Luka," Jing Mei said, laughing.   
  
Jing Mei looked up at her friend and knew that finally, John had a chance at happiness. She would miss his wit, and miss watching him spar with Dave Malucci. But those were small sacrifices in light of the new adventure her friend was about to partake. Realizing how late it had gotten, Jing Mei got up to return to work. Pausing at the door, she looked back at John and saluted. That small gesture spoke volumes as John's eyes melted and Jing Mei caught a glimpse of the friend who she feared had died in February at the hand of a madman. G_d speed John Carter.  



	2. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: ER/ characters are property of nbc, warner bros, constant c, amblin, etc. Stargate SG1/ characters are property of showtime/ viacom, mgm/ua, double secret productions, gekko productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only-no profit involved.  
  
SPOILERS: ER: Be Still My Heart, All In the Family, May Day.  
Stargate SG1: Stargate the Movie, Need, general references to season 1-3.  
  
NOTES: This is an ER/ Stargate SG1 crossover featuring John Carter and the crew of SG1. Enjoy!  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part Two  
By: Victoria F.  
  
Colonel Jack O'Neill sat back in his chair and surveyed his team seated around the large conference table. The General's words still rung in his ears.  
  
'Colonel, call your team together and meet me in the briefing room at 1300 sharp! I'm going to be making some changes to your team and I plan on announcing those changes today.' The general had dismissed him then, a raised hand silencing Jack's unanswered question poised on his lips. What changes?  
  
The conference room was silent. All four members of SG1 shared the same thought. Who was going to be removed from the team? Jack glanced at his second in command, Major Samantha Carter. Sam sat with her back straight and head up, the perfect soldier-a picture of bravery and strength. But her eyes, looking everywhere but at her team-her friends-revealed something else. Fear. Jack doubted that she would be the one to go. Hell, she was one of the best military officers Stargate Command had in its ranks. She complimented Jack's command abilities, almost acting before Jack had time to utter the order. Sam's common sense, logical scientist side counteracted Jack's sarcastic wit and at times harsh words, usually directed towards the team's archeologist and linguist, Daniel.   
  
Daniel. Geek, nerd, wimp, naive, weathered, doctor, scientist, genius, friend. Of all the words that could be used to describe Daniel, that was the one that had the most impact. Friend. Jack could live with losing his team's history buff if it weren't for that one little complication. From the day he laid eyes on 'Dr. Jackson' four years ago, he could feel the admiration, respect, awe, and finally friendship grow into the relationship they shared today. Sure, Jackson still got under his skin, especially when he went wandering off, getting captured by beautiful aliens with glowing eyes or falling prey to some deadly trap, barely escaping with his life. But his perseverance that usually won out in the end, his insistence that there was a peaceful way to settle the confrontations they often found themselves in, and his marked intelligence that saved Jack's butt more than once overshadowed all the negatives.   
  
It would hurt to lose him.   
  
Jack looked over at Te'alc and noted the calm exterior the large Jaffa displayed. He had to wonder what Te'alc was thinking. Was he worried that this might be what they'd all feared since they day he joined their team? Was his new assignment to report to Area 51 under the command of Colonel Maybourne? Jack shuddered at the thought of losing Te'alc to such a frightening end. He knew that once in Maybourne's hands, they would never see or hear from the Jaffa again. Jack knew it was only due to his own insistence, supported by General Hammond, that Te'alc had not been sent to Area 51 in the beginning.   
  
Jack's thoughts suddenly turned to himself, and he remembered the countless times his team arrived back at the base battered and bloody. Far too many times. Perhaps his leadership abilities were being questioned. Perhaps he was the team member about to receive the boot. Hell, he couldn't argue that his team worked well together, maybe he was the weak link. It was hard to forget the state of mind he was in when he was first called back to active duty. He remembered sitting, alone in his dead son's room, fingering the same gun that had killed Charlie. Fingering the gun that was to have killed him, had it not been for the sudden arrival of two soldiers calling him back for one final mission. A suicide mission.   
  
Jack's head snapped up and at attention as the briefing room door opened and General Hammond entered, followed by Dr. Janet Frasier. Oh, that wasn't good. Had to be Daniel. Were they questioning his mental health again? Or was it the most recent trip to the infirmary to treat another concussion and lapse of memory? Jack glanced over at Daniel and realized Daniel had snuck a look in his direction. Jack tried to smile, to encourage the doctor, and Daniel gave a slight shrug in return. Figures Daniel wouldn't realize he was the most likely candidate for dismissal.  
  
Jack turned his attention to General Hammond who had by now seated himself at the head of the long table. The General cleared his throat, his own discomfort with the following task was obvious. This rare glimpse at the General's own vulnerability was fleeting and suddenly he was the all-business, no nonsense General he always was.   
  
"SG1, I have been reviewing mission reports from all SG teams, and am rather appalled by the number of injuries sustained by your team. Colonel O'Neill, your team has by far the most incidents of mission related injuries, many of them near fatal. It is by sheer luck that you are all alive today. As well as some fancy handiwork by our good doctor here. I have also noticed an increase in the number of serious injuries as of late. Therefore, I find myself with only one option with which to combat this disturbing trend. As of this moment, I am assigning a fifth member to your team."  
  
General Hammond watched the looks almost immediately shared by the four members of Stargate Command's most illustrious team. It unnerved him to no end when they did this-the General almost suspected they could read each other's minds, the unspoken communication was so clear. They wanted no part of this.   
  
Colonel O'Neill was the first one to object. "General, with all due respect, I already have my team. We don't need a fifth member. I mean, what would they do? I've already got my scientist, my archeologist and linguist, and my very own alien bodyguard. What more can one team ask for?"   
  
Major Carter was next. "Sir, I agree with Colonel O'Neill. I don't see how adding another member to our team is going to make much of a difference, except maybe to increase those statistics with his own injuries."  
  
Before Daniel or Te'alc could add further objection, General Hammond motioned for the team to be silent. "If you would allow me to finish, I will explain what role your new team member is to have. After discussing several options with Dr. Frasier, we have come to the agreement that this is not only the best option, but a necessary one if we are to continue to allow your team the range of freedom it has been allotted. Therefore, you have been assigned one Doctor John Carter to join your team." The General was interrupted again by Jack.  
  
"A doctor? As in medical? Don't you mean a babysitter? Please, General, we've all had training in first aid. We've come through all our missions in one piece. Don't you think this is a little drastic? I can see it now-Daniel here's going to wander off towards some ruins, fall into a hole, and as soon as we know it, our very own guardian angel will have dragged all our butts back through the Stargate. No thank you." Jack avoided looking at Daniel, knowing the young archeologist was probably giving him the look of death after that comment.   
  
"Actually Colonel, what I had pictured was more along the lines of the doctor patching up Daniel on the spot, thereby avoiding the infections you all are so familiar with that usually come from lack of proper and timely treatment. After that, you are all on your merry way, without the worry of how loud Dr. Frasier will scream when you come back with a raging infection. And the doctor's responsibilities will not be limited to treating your team. I will expect a full report of medical conditions on each planet visited, as well as collection of any data which might be useful in treating our diseases and ailments that plague the Earth. Any medical tools which can be acquired and used will be of all the more value to us. Finally, our good doctor will be able to assess and treat any ailments we may unwillingly spread to the new cultures we encounter. Any other questions?"  
  
Jack raised his hand and the General nodded in his direction, feeling his exasperation grow with each sarcastic comment and look from this team.   
  
"Sir, is this Doctor Carter military or civilian? How much experience does he have? What makes you think he'll fit in with our team?"  
  
General Hammond leaned back in his chair as an image of the new doctor entered his mind. Young, enthusiastic, highly talented, recovering addict, victim of brutal attack at the hands of his own patient. Of course when the General agreed to look over the data about the doctor, these last two items weren't yet a factor. Dr. Frasier assured him that despite what may have occurred recently most certainly would not interfere with this doctor's abilities to become a top physician in the secret war they fought every day. General Hammond quietly suspected that this doctor would fit into the team like a long lost brother. His history shadowed those of his new team-mates. While he had a family out there in the 'real world', they had distanced themselves from Dr. Carter. This need for 'family' would most certainly aid in adhering him to his new team. His addiction would help him deal with Dr. Jackson and his own lingering effects of too frequent sarcophagus use. And his social upbringing assured that Dr. Carter could follow orders, show appropriate respect towards authority, and he would most definitely have the proper manners necessary when encountering new races. As for this attack he suffered last Valentine's Day, well, the General knew he wouldn't be a stranger to what this team faced every time they left through the Stargate.   
  
Turning to face SG1, he replied, "Doctor Carter is a civilian emergency medicine physician from Chicago. Yes, he'll need some training in the area of weaponry and self-defense, but I think he'll hold his own. As for fitting in, I can't guarantee that it will happen. I can only say there will be hell to pay if anyone goes out of their way to ensure that this doesn't happen. Am I making myself clear?" The General cast a stern gaze over SG1, daring them to challenge his decision once again.  
  
"Yes Sir," in unison from three team members. That's better.   
  
"Colonel O'Neill? As Commanding Officer of this unit, it will be your duty to make sure that your man is trained and mission ready in three months. At that time, he will begin to accompany your team on peaceful missions. By six months, I want him ready for battle. Understood?"  
  
"Yes Sir!" Much better. "Dismissed!"  
  
"Sir, one last question please." Major Carter.  
  
"Yes Major."  
  
"Sir, when will Doctor Carter arrive on base?"  
  
"He's already here Major."  
  
"Oh. Yes Sir."  
  
"Major?"  
  
"Yes Sir?"  
  
"I would like it if you could begin briefing Doctor Carter on SGC's history and mission first thing tomorrow. And Doctor Jackson-why don't you join them and share your knowledge of the races we've contacted and what Doctor Carter should expect on that front. Colonel O'Neill, schedule time for the weaponry lessons. Te'alc, self-defense. All clear team?"  
  
"Yes Sir!" With that SG1 filed out of the briefing room, leaving General Hammond alone with Janet.   
  
"Doctor Fraiser? Are we doing the right thing here? Can Doctor Carter find a niche in this team? And is it wise to try, after all, he's not the same man you saw three years ago."  
  
Doctor Janet Frasier, who had been silent throughout the meeting, finally spoke. "Yes Sir. I think this will work out. I think it will take time, especially since SG1 is so reluctant to open their ranks to a fifth member. As for Doctor Carter's recent brush with death and his addiction to painkillers, I think he will bounce back. I have spoken with several of Doctor Carter's colleagues and family members and all had the same thing to say about him. He's resilient. He's no stranger to pain General, and to his credit, he has used it to make him into the man he is today. No he's not the same young doctor I had the pleasure of seeing in action, but he's not as naive either. I'm confident this will be a successful amalgamation."  
  
"Anything else Doctor?"  
  
"Only that I will begin working with Doctor Carter immediately on the diseases and injuries he will be seeing most frequently. I will also be overseeing his own healthcare and will be enacting a pain management plan to battle the lingering after-affects of his stabbing."  
  
"Thank you Doctor." General Hammond watched as Janet exited the room, and prayed that this was as good of an idea as Doctor Fraiser made it sound. Time would tell.   
  
*****  
  
John Carter sat on the hard bunk and looked around his small quarters. The walls were starched white-almost blinding underneath the bright light from the overhead lamp. Besides the small bunk, the room contained only a plain wood dresser and a small desk. The quarters were really to be used when he had to stay over at the base. He would be expected in time to find an apartment in town. Until then, this was his new home.   
  
Tired from his long flight and the events of the day, John lay back on the bunk and closed his eyes. He could still see Benton's face, his jaw set in anger, his eyes cold. He didn't believe John should take this job, and told John as much. John didn't know if this was because Benton didn't believe in him enough to think he could handle such a job, or if it was something more than that. Was he afraid for John? John had been angry then too, angry that the one person who he had hoped could share his excitement had been the one to rain on the parade. John regretted his words, spoken out of pain and his own fear of the unknown.  
  
'I don't need your permission or your blessing! I was hoping that you could be happy for me. I'm finally doing something for myself. I'm not out to gain anyone's approval. Not anymore. I don't need you, I never needed you. After all, Peter Benton only has time for number one. I can't believe I wasted so many years chasing after you, waiting for that one time when you had something good to say. Something that meant I was worthwhile. Well, you know what? Screw you Peter! You can go to hell for all I care!'  
  
John hadn't wanted to leave things like that, but he had to pack, had to be on the plane in three hours. Had to say goodbye to his grandparents. That hadn't taken long. His grandfather had hardly looked at him. Just nodded and walked off. Gamma had hugged him, told him to be careful. Told him she loved him. He's called his parents and that went over the way their conversations usually did. Why did he need their blessing? He was going to do whatever he wanted no matter what. Just why was he calling? To tell them he had just signed his life away to the military? Didn't he know just how much he was hurting his family with decisions? Then his mother had started crying, telling him how much she loved him, not to go. She couldn't lose another son. That had hurt. He wasn't trying to hurt his family. This was something he knew he had to do. He had to regain some control over his life. He's hung up wishing he had never called. A letter would have been better. But too late now. And then he boarded the plane.   
  
Arriving at the base was another story. He'd been retrieved from the airport by some airman, even younger than himself. Luckily Doctor Frasier, Janet, he had to remember to call her Janet, met him on the way in. Saved him from the embarrassment of a full body search. She assured the guards she would know if he had any weapons on his body by the time she was through with him. Then they had gone to the infirmary where he had his first ever military physical. And he'd thought his stay at County was bad. Janet had poked and prodded in places he blushed to even think about. They'd discussed his recovery from February's stabbing and pain management options. He was honest with her about his addiction and his previous unwillingness to speak up when he was in pain. Janet had warned him that if he was going to be working on this base, he'd better be forthcoming because she wasn't going to have any of the personnel put in danger because he wasn't one hundred percent. When Janet was through with him, she introduced him to the oh so charming Doctorwho proceeded to prod John's mind as thoroughly as Janet had prodded his body. Exhausted didn't even come close to describing how he felt when he was through. And then he met the General.  
  
General Hammond was all military. John felt like a child standing near him, his 'civilian' status all the more remarkable. He had looked John up and down, sizing him up. The scrutiny went on for some time before the General spoke.   
  
'Doctor Carter. Let me start off by saying that I agreed to your services on the recommendation of Doctor Frasier, and that was before I even knew about the ordeal you went through in February or your consequent addiction to painkillers. I expect all of my teams to be at their best. Now is the time to speak up if you have changed your mind and wish to leave. You have seen nothing here yet that makes you a security risk. What'll it be son?'  
  
John was ready to leap up and run from that room, from the base, and never look back. But something in the General's eyes made him stand rooted to his spot. And then he knew. The General's eyes were warm, welcoming. He would be accepted into the folds if he chose to stay. Forcing himself to speak calmly, John had answered.  
  
'I'd like to stay Sir.'  
  
What the General told him after that made his skin crawl. Aliens? Travel to other worlds through a 'Stargate'? Battle for control of the universe? It was pure science fiction, and it was all true. John would have liked to believe it was a dream, but his dreams were nothing like this. They were usually replays of the bloody Valentine's Day, or the 'intervention' or his time in rehab-alone. No, nothing like this. Then the General briefed him on his role at Stargate Control, as a type of field medic, as well as explorer and historian of sorts. He would be trained in battle tactics, self-defense, and weapons handling. The last made him think of Maggie Doyle and his failure at handling himself on the gun range-shooting across the range wildly. He was lucky he hadn't shot anyone. Maggie had taken the gun away then and they found other ways to spend time together.   
  
He would meet his team soon, after the General briefed them on their new team mate. The General warned him that they were a tightknit bunch, and might need a while to warm up to him. But rest assured, once they accepted him as one of their own, it was suffice to say there would be hell to pay to anyone who dared hurt him in any way.   
  
John was escorted to his tiny quarters after that meeting. John's stomach rumbled and he realized that he hadn't eaten anything substantial since last night's farewell dinner at Kerry's. The steak had been delicious and he had been pleasantly surprised to see so many of his colleagues from County there to see him off. Almost everyone but Peter. No, Peter waited 'til this morning to jump on him about leaving. John forced his mind away from his former teacher, the man who had saved his life in the operating room. He slowly rolled off the bunk and went in search of food.  
  
It hadn't taken him long to find the cafeteria. There were guards posted everywhere and they all stopped the stranger who obviously didn't belong there. Once they realized who he was, they would smirk, a few laughed outright, patted him on the back and pointed him in the right direction. One of them had wished him good luck. John wasn't sure what to make of their strange behavior, but he assumed it must just be a military thing.   
  
John filled a tray full of food and sat down at one of the tables alone. He didn't know anyone yet, and hadn't been introduced to his team. He hoped that someone would come over and introduce themselves. A group of soldiers entered the cafeteria and the lead soldier swept his gaze over the room, letting it fall on John for a moment. Then the rest of the group all looked at him for a moment and then turned to face each other. It was obvious to John that this was his 'team'. The lead soldier was older the himself, with graying hair. There was a woman, blond hair, quite pretty. Another man, about John's age, probably a little older, and finally a large African American man with a gold tattoo on his forehead. John remembered some of what the General had told him about his team. Only two were military. A Colonel Neil? He hoped that was right, and the woman, Major Carter. He remembered her because of the shared surname. The younger man was an archeologist and the large African American-well, he wasn't really African American now was he?-was from another world.   
  
John watched as his team filled their trays with food and began walking toward him, and then sat at a table in the middle of the room. The Major and the alien seemed as though they were about to come his way, until the Colonel pulled the Major's arm and planted her down at the table they now sat around. John felt his appetite disappear, but forced himself to eat a few more bites of the military food. G_d, he hoped this freeze out wouldn't last long. He didn't know how long he could endure being alone in a such a foreign place. He wished for a friend, anyone-even Peter Benton right about now.   



	3. Default Chapter Title

*See Part One for Disclaimer and Spoilers  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part Three  
By: Victoria F.  
  
'Come on Daniel, Where are you?' Sam thought to herself as she paced the corridor outside Doctor Carter's quarters. She'd been waiting for over fifteen minutes, with no sign of Daniel. Why did Colonel O'Neill have to be such a jerk? Couldn't he at least have gone over and introduced the team before sitting apart from the new doctor? Sam's face flushed with embarrassment as she remembered how easily she allowed herself to be deviated from sitting with her new team mate. Just let Jack drag her back by the arm and push her down into a chair. Jeez, how spineless was she, that she would allow herself to be so easily manipulated?   
  
Sam had expected the new doctor to be older, but when she saw him sitting there, her heart went out to him. Cripes, he was younger than Daniel. He looked so alone, so lost sitting there by himself in what looked like tailor-made suit amongst dozens of uniformed soldiers. Stuck out like a sore thumb. What shamed her most was the look on his face when the Colonel led the team away from him. When they had first walked in and saw him there, his face lit up, hopeful that this, his new team, would ease the burden of loneliness. Then the confusion that flickered across his face, only momentary, before being replaced by a hardened look of mistrust-distaste. Her stomach tightened into a knot remembering these first impressions the doctor had of his new team. 'Team'. That was a laugh. She would have thought that after everything they'd been through with Daniel and Te'alc, they would have made more of an effort to welcome an outsider.   
  
Sam's thoughts were interrupted by a gentle touch at her elbow. Startled, Sam whirled around and came face to face with Daniel. The sudden motion knocked the linguist off balance, causing him to sway madly while trying to stay on his feet. He juggled three steaming cups in his hands, only to have one open and spill hot, brown liquid down the front of his uniform.   
  
Cursing loudly, Daniel leaned forward so the hot liquid could cool on his uniform without burning his skin.   
  
"Jeez Daniel, don't you know not to sneak up on a person? You can get hurt doing that." Sam took two of the cups from Daniel's hands.  
  
"Thanks Sam, that's really helpful. I've got third degree burns down my chest and you're making jokes. How long have you been here?"  
  
"Long enough. Where've you been? We were supposed to meet here at 0800."  
  
"I was getting coffee. Gotta have coffee. I'm sure even the good doctor here would agree with that." Daniel crossed the hall to John's door and paused, looking back at Sam.  
  
"Ready?"   
  
That one word expressed what thousands of words couldn't. Ready to make amends? Ready to repair the damage done last night? Ready to show that we're not cold hearted bastards? Sam nodded, straightening her back, trying to push away the unease she felt.  
  
Daniel knocked on the door and waited. He thought he could hear the sound of voices within the room, then footsteps. The door opened, slowly-warily. The new doctor stood there looking at Daniel, then his gaze shifted over Daniel's shoulders and rested on Sam. His face had an empty expression, but it looked forced, practiced. Hiding what he was really feeling, Daniel assumed. 'Hell, I don't blame him, after the royal welcome he received last night.' The doctor opened the door wider to allow Daniel and Sam to enter.   
  
"Good morning Daniel, Major." That was Janet's voice. Daniel's head jerked up and away from an interesting spot on the tiled floor where his gaze had landed after a quick glance at the new doctor. Janet was perched on the desk.   
  
"Uh, good morning Janet, doctor." Daniel was quick to include the new doctor in his greeting.   
  
"Well John, it looks like the troops are here to get you started, so I'll head back to the infirmary now." Janet peered at her watch. "I'll see you at 1200 sharp for lunch. Just meet me at the infirmary." With a quick nod from John, and a stern frown toward Daniel and Sam, Janet left the three SG1 members alone.  
  
Lunch. She'd made a lunch date with the new doctor. That meant he had told her about the cold treatment he received last night. There would be hell to pay later when Janet got Daniel and the rest of SG1 alone. He'd have to avoid the infirmary for awhile. That would not be easy. It was, after all, the reason Dr. Carter was here and on their team.   
  
The silence in the room was deafening. John wasn't sure what to say to the man and woman standing in his quarters. What could he say? The moment for frivolous introductions was long past. So John stood, his arms folded over his chest, his gaze wandering over everything in the room except his two guests.   
  
After exchanging a quick look with Daniel, Sam stepped forward and held out one of the steaming cups.   
  
"Coffee?"  
  
John eyed the cup warily, but unfolded one arm and reached for the drink. His fingers locked around the cup, the warmth soothing on his cold hand. Immediately he could feel the familiar caffeine ache that came from too little of the black stuff. When was the last time he had coffee? He couldn't remember. The ache grew, and John felt desperate to drink, but he resisted the urge. He just held it, his gaze finding a new home on the white styrofoam.  
  
"Uh, Dr. Carter. I just wanted to apologize for last night, in the cafeteria. We, ah, aren't usually so closed ranks." Sam fell silent, and hoped that the doctor would speak soon. His silence was unnerving.  
  
Rather than let the silence continue, knowing that he made contact with new races on an almost daily basis, Daniel stepped forward and shoved his hand outward. "Hi. I'm Daniel Jackson. SG1's linguist, archeologist and cultural attaché."   
  
John looked at Daniel and then down at his extended hand. They were trying to apologize, that much was obvious. And they brought coffee. That had to mean something. John reached out and shook Daniel's hand.  
  
"John Carter."  
  
Sam stepped forward and likewise introduced herself. She noticed that the doctor seemed to be relaxing a little. Yes! He took a drink of the coffee. Apology accepted. Better to just jump right in and get to work and worry about making friends later.   
  
"Well, let's head down to my office and get you started on some history. Okay?" Sam regretted the comment the minute she made it. To add insult to injury, she was treating the doctor like a child. Sam steeled herself for an icy glare, but none came. The doctor either didn't notice the innuendo, or was used to be treating like an imbecile. Hmm, he was fairly young, and must have come right out of a residency. Must be the latter. Either way, no harm done.  
  
The trio filed out of John's quarters and headed towards Sam's office. Daniel glanced at John, and noticed that the doctor's clothes matched his own. That hadn't taken long. Must've been the stares. Daniel could remember feeling like an outsider in his own civilian clothes, until he too finally gave in and wore the provided uniform.   
  
"Nice outfit." Daniel could feel Sam's eyes bore into his. He shrugged, he was only trying to lighten the mood.   
  
John blushed before replying with a laugh, "Beats an Armani suit."  
  
Sam turned away quickly to hide her amusement, and continued walking. Was the doctor blushing? And here, she thought Daniel was the only man who could blush that color. This would definitely be interesting.   
  
*****  
  
Several hours and three pots of coffee later, the excited voices that had been causing quite a stir around the base, were interrupted by a knock at the door. Rather than wait for the door to be opened, Janet turned the knob and pushed the door open. Aha! This is where Dr. Carter was hiding. Janet cleared her throat and waited for someone, anyone to notice her. No takers. The three doctors were huddled around a table with papers spread out, obliterating any sign of the table. Must be some history lesson. Determined to get their attention, Janet slammed the door shut. Oops. Janet cringed as all three jumped in shock.   
  
Janet looked at the three, waiting for someone to realize what time it was. Instead, she was greeted by empty looks. 'Oh, for crying out loud!'  
  
"Lunch?" she asked.  
  
"Oh, lunch! Dr. Frasier. I'm sorry. I didn't realize what time it is. Just give me a minute and I'll be ready." John began to collect the papers laying closest to him and bundled them into a folder.   
  
Daniel and Sam sprung into action also, sweeping the papers together and handing them to John.   
  
"Wait, we'll join you. I'm starving after that brain fest." Sam stood and stretched. Her muscles sore from sitting so long. She glanced at the clock. 1245. Oh boy. Way to go Sam. Get the new kid in trouble with the boss. He was supposed to meet her at 1200. Oh well, Janet didn't seem too upset-humored mostly.   
  
Daniel turned to Janet. "Have you seen Jack? I think I'm going to track him and Te'alc down first and then grab a bite to eat."  
  
"All right. I believe I saw them in the Colonel's office not too long ago." Janet leaned in close to Daniel and whispered, "I think they were hiding."  
  
Daniel nodded, understanding what that meant. Hiding from the new kid. Hiding from Janet. And probably hiding from the General. He was pretty sure the General would know about the welcome, or lack of, by now.   
  
Daniel walked with the others to the elevator and then continued down the corridor.   
  
Janet, Sam and John had their food and had begun eating by the time Daniel reappeared with Jack and Te'alc in tow. Janet watched as the three men filled their trays. She watched as Jack gave Daniel a look that said, 'Do I have to?' to which Daniel gave a look replying, 'Ja'ack!'. Usual Jack, Daniel interplay. After another stern look from Daniel, Jack followed slowly along behind Daniel and Te'alc. Daniel approached the table and set his tray down next to John's. Jack put his tray down across the table, as far from the newcomer as possible. Te'alc next to Daniel.   
  
"Colonel Jack O'Neill, Te'alc, this is Dr. John Carter." Daniel gestured at each of the men as he introduced them.   
  
Jack barely nodded in John's direction before sitting down and picking up his fork. "So, what's on the menu today?"  
  
Ignoring him, Te'alc bowed his head in John's direction. "Greetings."  
  
"Ah, greetings, hello." John responded, flustered by this unusual display. "Colonel." A quick nod in Jack's direction and John went back to eating. The table, which had been buzzing in conversation was now silent.   
  
Te'alc was the first to break the silence. "Dr. Carter. We must schedule self-defense. When would be convenient?"  
  
John looked up quickly, his eyes narrowing. Did he know? No, the large alien-no Jaffa, that's what Dr. Jackson called him-was only referring to his tactical training. He would, after all, be going on some rather dangerous missions with this team. He knew nothing of John's incapability to defend himself let alone save the life of his innocent student.   
  
John inhaled deeply and once again let his face take on a mask of 'Hey, it's okay, all's good with the world', before he answered.  
  
"Well, I'll be working with Dr. Jackson and Major Carter every morning at eight o'clock. I work with Janet after lunch. So that leaves either after dinner or early morning. I guess I would prefer early morning. I'm usually awake pretty early. So, five, six?"  
  
Jack watched as the doctor made plans with Te'alc. Something bothered Jack about the doctor. What had he just seen flicker across the man's face before it became steel again? He was holding out, and Jack was determined he would find out just what secrets the man was keeping.   
  
His turn. "Well Dr. Carter, I guess that leaves evenings for weapons and artillery training. You up for that?"  
  
The doctor turned his gaze to Jack. "After the shifts I've worked in the ER back in Chicago, believe me, this is a vacation."  
  
'Vacation. A huh. Sure. Wait till you're surrounded by dozens of Gaould soldiers firing staff weapons at you and then tell me this is a vacation.' Rather than voice these thoughts, Jack merely raised an eyebrow in the doctor's direction and went back to eating.   
  
Janet began to pile her dishes neatly on her tray. "Sorry to eat and run, but we're behind schedule and John and I have some work to get to in the infirmary." Janet cast a look in John's direction. "Ready John?"  
  
John nodded and stood, picking up his tray and following Janet away from the table. The rest of SG1 were left alone to discuss the new doctor.   
  
Sam turned to Jack and glared. "Sir, can't you at least try to be nice? I know you don't want him here, but we don't have a choice in the matter. He's here, he's staying. He's a part of our team."  
  
"I agree with Major Carter. We should be 'civil' to Doctor Carter. He will be our carekeeper-should we not show him respect?" Jack turned to glare at Te'alc.  
  
"I'll show him respect when he earns that respect. Until then, I can be civil. Hell, I was civil. But he's, he's-he's a sniveling, wet behind the ears, scrawny, CHILD! He thinks this is a freaking 'vacation'! I don't trust him. Did you see that look he gave Te'alc when he mentioned self-defense? I mean, what was that all about? For all we know, he's here as some sort of spy. Infiltrate our team, find our weaknesses and split us up."   
  
Jack stopped talking and looked at Daniel. Great. Now Daniel looked upset. Ah jeez. Had to go and remind him how judgmental I can be. Had to remind him of the crap I gave him back on Abydos, before I got to know him. Got to know him--hell, I trust him with my life! But I can tell he's mad. He's not saying anything, just sitting there. Come on Dannyboy, say something. Tell me I'm only just toeing the line here, that I haven't stepped over it big time.   
  
Daniel looked across the table at Sam, mumbled something-'see you later?' and pushed his chair away from the table. Leaving his tray on the table, Daniel practically flew from the room.   
  
Sam pulled the tray over to her side and began stacking the dishes together. Jack jumped as they clattered together. Daniel wasn't the only one angered by his words. Sam finally looked at Jack and Jack grimaced at the lightning bolts that practically flew out of Sam's eyes.   
  
"That's just great Jack. Be an asshole. Go ahead and confront the doctor with your theories. It won't be the Gaould that scare him out of here, it'll be you Jack. And you alone. When the General comes to inquire why the doctor wants to leave, I won't be standing next to you defending you." Sam paused, flustered by her outburst. "I'm sorry Sir, I meant, 'Be an asshole-Sir!'" Sam turned on her heel, slamming the trays down on the counter before storming out of the cafeteria.   
  
Jack groaned and turned to the only member of his team remaining at the table. "Damn."  
  
"I think you are in warm water Colonel O'Neill."   
  
"That's hot water Te'alc, and yeah, I am. I'm drowning in it. Why can't I ever just keep my mouth shut?"  
  
Jack gathered his things and turned to Te'alc. "I think I'm going down to the gym. I need to work off some energy."  
  
"I will join you O'Neill." Te'alc followed the Colonel from the room. Perhaps if he reminded the Colonel of his misconceptions concerning Daniel Jackson and himself, the Colonel could be persuaded to 'cut Doctor Carter some slack.' Te'alc decided that yes, he would try.  
  
*****  
  
"Sam, I don't want to talk about it." Daniel slammed a book down on his desk and sat down to decipher the words within. Sam had settled herself into one of Daniel's chairs and peered at him.   
  
"Daniel. Please. I know you're mad. So am I. But don't do this!"  
  
"Do what Sam? Work? This is my job you know. I'm paid to do 'this'." Daniel gestured at the book in front of him.  
  
"Don't shut yourself away in here. I know you-it'll be days before you decide you're not mad anymore and come out for air."  
  
"Sam."  
  
"Don't 'Sam' me. And quit giving me that look. It's not going to work. I want to know what else is going on."  
  
"Nothing else is going on. I'm busy. Work to do. Coffee to drink." To demonstrate his point, Daniel picked up his coffee mug and brought it to his lips. Then he deliberately picked up a pencil and began jotting notes down into a notebook.   
  
Sam jumped up from her chair and snagged the pencil out of Daniel's hands.   
  
"Hey!"  
  
"You can't work if you can't write."  
  
"Ha! That's what you think." Daniel opened a drawer and pulled out a box of new pencils.   
  
"Please Daniel." Sam had reserved this line of offense for last. And it worked like a charm. Daniel couldn't resist Sam when she begged, her eyes pleading plaintively.  
  
With a sigh, Daniel sat back and looked at Sam. "Okay. It's more than just being mad. Yeah, I think it sucks how Jack is treating Dr. Carter. But he was so vehement about what he was saying about him. I mean, to call the guy a 'child'? To accuse him of being an infiltrator? Accusing him of giving Te'alc strange looks." Daniel ran his hand through his sandy blond hair.   
  
"Is that what he thought of me? Is it still what he thinks of me? All of us? As some, 'wet behind the ears' bunch of little kids? I mean, he does call us 'kids' all the time. What's that suppose to mean?"  
  
Sam began to tap the stolen pencil against her teeth. Daniel had a point. But she didn't, couldn't, believe that the Colonel thought that way about them. He was just having a hard time adjusting to having another team member. He had after all, broken them all in, until they worked together like clockwork. He knew them all, inside and out. As they knew each other. How would they be affected by another team member? Not just someone along for the ride, as happens sometimes when one SG team is on leave or injured, leaving an orphaned soldier in need of a temporary home. Dr. Carter would be on their team. Forever. He wasn't going away.   
  
"Daniel." "Sam." They laughed as they tried again to speak, without tumbling their words on top of each other.   
  
"You first." Daniel waved his hand at Sam.  
  
"I think that we all just have to get used to the idea of having another team member. Dr. Carter seems nice, smart. The Colonel will get to know him, see that he's not a threat, and ease off. You'll see."  
  
Daniel nodded. "You're right. I know that. Heck, it's probably a wounded pride thing anyway. Jack'll agree that having a doctor on the team is a good idea as soon as one of us is wounded. He won't be able to deny it then. In the meantime . . .."  
  
"In the meantime, we remember who are friends are, and not try and crawl into the first available hole. Got it?" Sam gave Daniel her best mothering look. Although effective, it didn't come close to Jack's.   
  
"Yes mother."  
  
Sam held the pencil out to Daniel.  
  
"You can keep it." Daniel grimaced as she went back to nibbling on the end.  
  
"Well, I do have work to do." Taking the hint, Sam left him alone, shutting the door quietly behind her.  
  
*****  
  
"So these Gaould attach themselves to the brainstem? And this allows them full control of their 'hosts' bodies?" John stood, holding an MRI scan up to the light. He was as intrigued as he was disgusted by the little worm like creatures that were so powerful.   
  
"Yes. They enter through the back of the neck, here." Janet touched the back of his neck where the entry point would be.   
  
"So that's why an MRI is done whenever there is reason to believe someone may have been infected."  
  
Janet turned to John. "Yes." She paused. "John, how are you doing? I know you didn't get the best reception."  
  
"I'm fine. Dr. Jackson and Major Carter apologized for last night and did their best to welcome me today."  
  
"I wasn't as worried about them. I know they have big hearts and would come to their senses. But Colonel O'Neill isn't exactly being friendly."  
  
"No, he's not. But he thinks I'm invading some kind of territory or something. I have to prove myself-not just to him either. I have to prove myself to me as well. I made some bad decisions, and really started to doubt myself back in Chicago. I don't intend for that to happen again. It'll take time."  
  
"Yes it will. So if you feel like it's not happening, you get your butt in here and talk to me and we'll figure out what you can do different. You agree to that, and I just might keep some 'minor' details about you to myself. No reason to add fuel to the fire." Janet smiled at John's relieved expression.  
  
"I can't stop you from telling him."  
  
"No, and I won't stop you from telling him either. In the meantime, it's just between us. Well, and the General. But he's not one to go spreading wild tales." Janet patted John's arm. "Let's get back to work. This is what a staff blast looks like. . .."  



	4. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: ER/ characters are property of nbc, warner bros, constant c, amblin, etc. Stargate SG1/ characters are property of showtime/ viacom, mgm/ua, double secret productions, gekko productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only-no profit involved.  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part Four  
By: Victoria F.  
  
John saw the long pole slicing through the air and rolled away from it as fast as his body was able. Not fast enough-the pole skidded over his thigh before hitting the ground with a loud thud. The pain was intense, but John staggered to his feet to face his attacker. Grasping a pole identical to the one that had just tattooed his leg with bruises, he readied himself for another blow. He didn't have to wait long. Again the narrow pole ripped through the distance between John and the large man yielding it. This time John's reaction was faster, and with both hands he brought his pole up, over his head, effectively blocking the strike. Without thinking, John twisted his pole and wrenched the other free of his opponent's hands. It dropped to the ground with a clunk. Pleased that he had been able to de-arm the enemy, John smiled proudly, his eyes dropping to the weapon on the ground. His smile turned into a grimace of pain as his legs were knocked out from under him, and he found himself lying on his back pinned down by a large Jaffa.   
  
"Ughh. . . cn't bree. . .," John wheezed from under the great weight pressing down on his chest.  
  
"I can not hear you Dr. Carter, please repeat yourself in a louder voice," Teal'c responded.  
  
John gasped for air. "I caaann't breeeaaath!" he hissed. "Get offff!"  
  
Teal'c immediately sprang to his feet and with one hand pulled John to his feet. John swayed as he inhaled the precious air and rubbed his chest.   
  
"I have injured you. I apologize. How can I assist you?" Teal'c looked at the young doctor, his usually impassive face now ablaze with concern.  
  
"No, I'm fine. Just a little winded. I think I'll sit down for a minute." John stumbled towards a bench in the large gymnasium and collapsed onto it. He lay back on the bench and let his arms hang down, his fingers brushing the floor. His leg throbbed, his back ached, and he was still struggling to catch his breath.  
  
"You are injured. I shall get Dr. Frasier." Teal'c moved towards the two large doors leading out of the gym.  
  
"No! I told you I'm fine. Besides, I don't need Janet. I am a doctor you know. Physician, heal thyself," John joked.   
  
Teal'c looked at John surprised. "You are capable of healing yourself? Does a symbiote dwell within you? I should have known, but I did not."  
  
"No, no. It's just an old saying. 'Physician, heal thyself.' It just means to help yourself. I'm not capable of spontaneous healing or anything."  
  
"Nor am I, Dr. Carter. My symbiote allows my body to heal quickly, but not spontaneously. I still require time to heal properly."  
  
John continued to lie on the bench and thoughts of his stay at County General Hospital back in Chicago swam through his mind. What he would have given to have a symbiote, hell-anything, aid in his healing process. Maybe then he wouldn't have found himself standing in an exam room with a needle stuck out of his arm, hastily trying to hide that fact from the intern who had decided to walk in just at that moment. And maybe his back wouldn't be clutched by the mind shattering muscle spasm that was riding over him at the moment.   
  
John knew already that most of the personnel on the Stargate Command base were all terrified of these Goa'uld creatures, and great measures were taken to ensure that no one returned from a mission infested by one of the aliens. But Teal'c seemed to live in harmony with the young Goa'uld within him. And everyone seemed to trust Teal'c. If they were all so afraid of these creatures, why would they allow one to live amongst them? John turned his head towards his companion who was still standing near him.  
  
"Teal'c?"  
  
"Yes Dr. Carter? Are you in need of assistance?"   
  
John ignored the question, just another form of the old familiar, 'Are you okay John? You look like hell,' bit he heard so often back at County.   
  
"What's it like? Having the Goa'uld in you I mean. What does it feel like?"   
  
Teal'c studied the man lying in front of him. The question seemed sincere as did the man asking it. How could he explain all the feelings that came with having the infant Goa'uld growing within him? Teal'c remembered the day he was to become the Goa'uld's protector. He could remember the fear, hid well by his mask of bravery and honor, as he was prepared for his sacred duty. Teal'c remembered his disgust as the slimy larva was inserted into his pouch. The way his stomach turned as the Goa'uld moved within him. He could remember the first time he had fallen, injured by a staff blast incurred during a battle with the warriors of another reigning Goa'uld. The immense pain of the blast, the searing heat, the smell of charred flesh. Then the pain faded, slowly, and he found that he had not died, nor was he close to dying. He remembered being yanked to his feet, his staff thrust back into his hands, and orders to continue fighting. The elation he felt at being alive. Invincible. He felt like a god. But he was not. He only served an alien impersonating a god. It was close enough. The power remained.   
  
Teal'c looked again at the young human, so naive, so vulnerable. Like Daniel Jackson had looked when Teal'c took his Sha're away from him forever. Their faces held the same need, the same longing and the same bitterness. This Earth was truly a sad place to produce their young so full of sorrow. Teal'c wondered at how these Tauri had remained free of Goa'uld rule for so long. Their war torn planet festered under famines in one area, while around the globe, food was left to rot in storage bins to maintain a nation's 'economy'. The Tauri here fought to remain free from the false gods of the universe, as false gods ruled over nations just across the vast expanse of ocean.   
  
But it was the innocence, as well as the bravery, of Daniel Jackson and Colonel O'Neill which made him finally realize that this 'power' was not honor. He looked into the eyes of Daniel's Sha're, saw them flash with the power of the Goa'uld within, and knew that he had dishonored himself. He had seen the love in Daniel's eyes as he sought to be with Sha're. And he saw the horror. The disbelief that the woman he loved was truly gone. But she was. Replaced by the Goa'uld Queen, Ammonet. A Goa'uld, like the one he carried within. A Goa'uld capable of inflicting destruction unlike any these Tauri had ever seen.   
  
What does it feel like to carry a Goa'uld within the protective pouch, within his body? It was like carrying a nuclear warhead with you where ever you went. It was shame. A constant reminder of the death and havoc at his hand. It was fear. Fear for himself and for his future. The larva Goa'uld will be fully mature and then what? Fear for his new home, his new friends. A mature Goa'uld will surely seek out a host.   
  
Teal'c looked at the young doctor lying on the bench, waiting intently for a reply. No one had ever asked him this question. Perhaps it was fear that kept them from voicing what he knew was at the tip of their tongues, restrained by some unknown force. Perhaps they did not want to know. Perhaps they preferred to forget that within him lie one of the creatures they feared so deeply. Even Daniel Jackson had not asked this question. What curiosity then brought the question to the lips of Dr. Carter? Finally, he answered.  
  
"It is a burden unlike any other. It is the embodiment of evil. It is a reminder of the pain and suffering I have inflicted upon many innocent beings. It is my penance." Teal'c fell silent, his eyes downcast with the shame he felt.  
  
"I understand."  
  
Teal'c looked up quickly at the human. How could he understand? He did not give life to one of these demon creatures. But he did understand. Teal'c could sense that the words were spoken in truth. The doctor's eyes met his. Yes, he did understand.   
  
John sat up quickly, and stood. Too quickly. The room spun and John felt Teal'c immediately at his side. The room finally settled and John shrugged off Teal'c's gentle hand.   
  
"Thanks. You can let go now. It was just a head rush."  
  
"Perhaps I should get Dr. Frasier now."  
  
John shook his head. "Thanks for the lesson. I've got to get showered. I have to meet Dr. Jackson and Major Carter in an hour." John walked towards the door, favoring his left leg. He stopped and turned around to look at Teal'c.   
  
"The only penance is forgiveness." Not waiting to see Teal'c's response, John turned around and walked out of the gym.   
  
He did not hear Teal'c as the Jaffa replied quietly, "You are correct Dr. Carter. And that penance will be long coming."  
  
*****  
  
John jerked awake and lurched backwards, startled out of a deep sleep by a touch on his back.   
  
"Whoa! Dr. Carter. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."  
  
John looked up and saw Sam standing above him. Ugh, when had he fallen asleep? The hot shower he had taken had refreshed him, and soothed his sore muscles. He even had a cup of strong coffee to keep him awake. But he had fallen asleep despite these things, sprawled forward onto the table, his head cradled on his arms. He had awaken early, he knew he would. He could finally sleep at night, but still could not manage to sleep more than six hours. That was why he welcomed the opportunity to use that time to build his skills, to train with Teal'c. He had not expected the intense exercise to tire him so quickly though. He would have to remember to increase his vitamins and eat regularly. He forgot that while recovered from the stab wounds and from the successive surgeries, his body was still not at one hundred percent.   
  
"You just startled me is all."  
  
"Woke you from your little nappy did we?"   
  
John turned his head in the direction of the sarcastic voice and looked at Jack. John hadn't expected the Colonel to join them today. He was a bit flustered at the Colonel's question as well--was it rhetorical? Unsure of the protocol involving answering or ignoring commanding officers, John answered.  
  
"Uh, yes Sir."  
  
Jack laughed at the doctor's nervous but honest answer. "Good, can't have you sleeping through Miss Carter's history lesson, now can we?" Jack sat down next to John and turned to Sam. He raised his hand and began to jump up and down in his chair, doing his best imitation of a small kid trying to get the teacher's attention.  
  
Ignoring his antics, Sam leaned against the table and looked at Jack. "Sir, why are you here?"  
  
Jack sat up straight, once again becoming the man in charge. "Well, Major Carter. I thought we would take Dr. Carter here on a field trip. Show him around the base. He hasn't seen the stargate yet Major; we can't allow him to continue on without first hand knowledge of just what we're dealing with, now can we?" Jack turned to look at John.  
  
"You'd like that, wouldn't you Dr. Carter?"  
  
His curiosity had been building, ever since meeting with General Hammond two days ago and learning about the alien artifact. John tried to suppress his excitement before he began grinning like a kid at Christmas, but it was no use. "Yes Sir!"  
  
"You see Major? He wants to go on this field trip. And we're just in time too, SG5 is due back any minute now." Jack clapped him on the back and led him out of the room. Sam sighed and followed along behind.  
  
Sam watched as Jack guided John through corridors and into the elevator. Was it her imagination, or was Dr. Carter limping? Teal'c must have pushed him hard today-set the pace. She would have liked to see that. She'd sparred with Teal'c, and he was no easy man to combat. He was trained well and Sam found herself using all of her faculties in order to defeat him. She suspected that Teal'c let her win that round, but he denied it, his impassive face giving away nothing.   
  
What confused Sam most was Jack's behavior. Was this the same Colonel who had only yesterday subjected the doctor to an onslaught of suspicion and ill-manners? At least Dr. Carter was absent for most of Jack's ravings. Now, here he was, his arm still clamped onto the doctor's back. What had changed since yesterday?   
  
Almost as if he could hear her thoughts, Jack turned to Sam and mouthed, 'Teal'c'. Ah. That made sense. Teal'c was the only one who had not spoken after Daniel had stormed off and Sam had her say. Sam was sure he would not have let Jack get away so easily without first confronting him in the usual Teal'c way. Calm, level headed, to the point. Sam wondered what he said to Jack to make him do this one hundred eighty degree turn around.   
  
The elevator door opened and John felt himself being led to a set of large metal doors leading into the gate room. They stopped outside the doors. John swallowed nervously. This was it. This was why they were all here. The 'stargate' was just beyond these doors. John still wondered if this was a dream. Just three days ago he was in Chicago having dinner with his friends, his colleagues. Now, here he was, in Colorado in some abandoned missile silo. About to walk through a rather large set of ominous doors to what lay beyond. Destiny.   
  
The floor began to vibrate and John tensed as the door in front of him began to slowly slide open. He could see a slab of what looked like curved stone through the crack in the doors. The crack grew larger and John could make out what looked like hieroglyphics on the stone, which he could now see was not only curved, but was in fact a large circle. John felt the hand on his back urging him forward, into the room. John placed one foot tentatively in front of the other until he was finally in the room, his eyes never leaving the stargate.  
  
It was beautiful. Eternity, wholeness, renewal, continuity, life. John's mind flooded with all the symbolic meanings of the circle he had learned in his studies. They all fit. Some eerily more so than others. Eternity. That's what the Goa'ulds were striving for. Casting aside life, at least the lives of others, to attain this ultimate goal.   
  
John's thoughts were disrupted as an alarm began to blare and a loud voice boomed, "Incoming travelers!" John felt himself being pulled back and turned to see Sam pulling on his arm.   
  
"We have to stay back doctor."  
  
John nodded and backed towards the wall, until he was standing next to Sam and Jack. The large metal doors opened again as a line of combat ready soldiers streamed into the room, weapons ready.   
  
"What's going on?" John whispered to Sam.  
  
"Don't worry doctor. Just standard procedure. In case someone, or something, tries to come through the gate uninvited."  
  
"Oh." John never felt this afraid in his entire life. Not even when. . .. No, he wasn't going to go there. He'd told himself many times over he was not going to dwell on what happened in the past. This was now, this was real. He was about to see the gate in action.  
  
John felt himself tense again as his gaze moved back to the large stone circle. Was it stone? John couldn't be sure from this distance. It somehow looked stronger than stone. He would have to ask. Later.   
  
Jack stood back and watched John. He'd seen the stargate enough times to know what was going to happen. He wasn't here to watch that. He was here to watch the doctor. Although he would never admit it, Jack loved to see the faces of the new recruits when they got their first glimpse at the large portal. And he wasn't going to miss out on the look on the good doctor's face. Jack had already seen enough flash across the doctor's face to write a book about, and he hadn't even seen it in action yet.   
  
The room began to shake and Jack watched as John's eyes grew that much wider. The iris slowly began to turn and John took a small step backwards. Usual reaction. Nothing new here. Then, whoosh! The pale blue, water like substance burst forth from the stargate and lingered, just for a moment, at the back of the gate room. John's mouth was hanging open and he had taken a small step forward. Better. John's mouth slowly closed as the blue substance settled into the center of the ring, looking like a vertical pool of shimmering water. The light reflected off the blue in the ring and caught in John's brown eyes. Jack could feel his own excitement mount as John took another small step forward. Easy there doc, don't go too far.  
  
The once blue substance was now rippling outwards, Jack expected that any second now SG5 would come walking, or tumbling, through the gate. He was wrong. They came hurdling through the gate at high speed, three of them. One running, one carrying, one being carried. One missing. Jack heard them shout to close the iris and saw the iris spin inwards until the blue was gone. He heard the shout for a medic, then noticed the blood pumping out of the downed man's arm. Or what used to be an arm. It was a bloody stump now. The hand was gone for sure, Jack wasn't sure how much of the arm was gone.   
  
He hadn't noticed the young doctor leap forward, away from Sam's grasping hand as she tried to hold him back. Didn't notice until he saw the doctor kneeling at the side of the injured man. The doctor was running his hands all over the injured man, checking his pulse, checking his breathing. All the time talking. Looking into his eyes and talking. His hands stopped over the man's forearm, midway between where an elbow should be and the shoulder. The gushing blood slowed. And still the doctor talked.   
  
Suddenly Janet was in the room with her team, loading the man onto a gurney. Janet, the gurney, the injured man, and the new doctor swept past Jack and Sam and into the hallway.  
  
Jack turned to follow the group. 'Ah, bloody hell.'  



	5. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: ER/ characters are property of nbc, warner bros, constant c, amblin, etc. Stargate SG1/ characters are property of showtime/ viacom, mgm/ua, double secret productions, gekko productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only-no profit involved.  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part Five  
By: Victoria F.  
  
Janet walked along side of John, as the injured man was wheeled out of the OR ahead of them. After three hours of surgery to the soldier's arm, Janet's face was pale, her eyes drooped. The soldier would recover, but it would be a long recovery, both physically and psychologically. He had been lucky; the doctors had been able to save his elbow, allowing for the future use of an artificial limb.   
  
Feeling the tension that had been building in her body over the last several hours, Janet reached her hand behind her and slowly massaged her lower back. Casting a look towards John, Janet realized he was mimicking her actions. His face was flushed, as if he had just run a long race, and his breath was shallow. Janet could hear the raspy intake of each breath. His steps were jerky, as if he were trying hard to walk straight. The illusion was broken when he entered the infirmary and collapsed into the first available chair.   
  
Janet cast him a concerned look as she walked past him and into her office. Knowing John's history and his tendency to hide his feelings as well as any pain he may be experiencing, Janet pondered how to broach her concern with John. If she asked if he was okay, she knew she would get the standardized answer of 'I'm fine'. She also knew pushing him too hard at this point would mean risking the loss of trust she needed to build with John if they were to work together as a medical team.   
  
Janet quickly walked out of her office carrying two cups of steaming coffee. Handing one to John, she cradled her own as she slowly claimed the chair next to him. She stretched her legs out in front of her and flexed her legs, pointing her toes towards the ground. Finally, she crossed one leg over the other and leaned back.  
  
"I'm beat. I normally like to get a jump start on my day, but that doesn't usually include major vascular surgery before lunch." Receiving no response from John, Janet tried a different approach.  
  
"That was a great save John. If you hadn't stopped the flow of blood when you did, there was a high chance Lieutenant Graves would have gone into cardiac arrest or shock. The chances for his surviving this surgery would have decreased greatly."  
  
John smiled weakly at the compliment before replying, "Just at the right place at the right time I guess."  
  
"What were you doing in the gate room when SG5 came through? I didn't think General Hammond had that little tour scheduled for a few more days." Janet looked at John quizzically.  
  
"Well, Colonel O'Neill thought it would be fun to take a little 'field trip'."  
  
"He did, did he?" Janet laughed for a moment before continuing, "You know, Colonel O'Neill didn't know quite what to do with himself when you jumped in to help the lieutenant. I don't know if you noticed, but he followed us all the way to surgery with a dumb-founded look on his face, before he finally disappeared."  
  
"Oh boy. The first day he's not giving me the silent treatment and I blow him off for surgery. That'll go over really well."  
  
"I wouldn't worry too much about it John. You'll have other chances to earn his graces. You know, I am as much your CO as the Colonel. So I'll just tell him I gave you a direct order to scrub in. Forced you to earn your keep." Janet smiled at John with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.   
  
Janet glanced at her watch. "Well, I've taken up your morning and you weren't scheduled to be here till after lunch. Would you prefer to work on SGC's history on your own or come back here and grab a few more hours in the infirmary?"  
  
"Um, I think I'd better work on that history if I don't want to be at a total loss when I do go through the gate myself. Three months really isn't that much time." John's voice faltered a bit as he recalled the site of the SG team stumbling through the gate. His mind stuck on something and he turned to Janet.  
  
"Ah, Janet, don't most SG teams have four members?"  
  
Janet sighed. She'd been wondering when the excitement would wear off enough for John to realize the true horror of what had happened. "Yes, most do. SG5 did as well. I don't know what happened to their fourth man."  
  
"Oh," was John's quiet reply.   
  
"John." Janet's voice was gentle, but strong. "This is what SGC is all about. We're fighting a war here, and we need everyone strong bodied and able. I know that what you saw today was frightening, but it's not always the outcome. But sometimes it is. It's a risk you all take when you walk through the stargate. But, you are fortunate to be a part of SGC's finest team, and the team that has the uncanny ability to come back alive and in one piece despite everything they've encountered. The risks have been upped though, and that's why you're here. We want to ensure that SG1 keeps coming back whole and alive. Are you up to that?"  
  
John sat quietly for a moment. Then he raised his head and looked Janet in the eye. "Yes, I am. I signed on for this, and I'm not going to back out now."  
  
Janet smiled, "Good. Now, before heading down for lunch, why don't you tell me why you're limping so heavily today and why a relatively short surgery had you winded."  
  
John's mouth fell open.  
  
"Able bodies, remember?" Janet said, grinning. Score one for Janet.  
  
John closed his mouth and began. "Well, it started with the self-defense lessons this morning. That was quite a workout, and, um, of course the staff blow to my thigh is still somewhat tender. And um, my back is pretty sore too. Not a whole lot of sleep, though I did nap before meeting the Colonel and Major Carter this morning. Guess I could be eating better. Forgot to take my daily vitamin. . .."   
  
Janet held up her hand to silence the rush of information. "Okay, okay. I get the picture. Sounds pretty typical for the SGC. We can deal with all of that. But don't try and pull the tight-lipped routine with me again. I can be vengeful. If you don't believe me, ask Daniel, er, Doctor Jackson. He's a good one for trying to pull a fast one on me. But as you'll soon learn, I'm faster."  
  
John smiled. "Yes Ma'am!"  
  
Janet patted the exam table. "All right, off with your clothes, and hop up. Let's see what we're dealing with."  
  
John's face flushed with embarrassment as he stripped down to his underwear. His movements were slow as his body reminded him of his earlier dual with Teal'c. Grimacing in pain as Janet poked at the large bruise on his thigh, he grunted, "Is this your usual bedside manner?"  
  
"Would you like a lollipop?" Was Janet's reply. When John didn't answer, Janet disappeared back into her office, coming out with a basket in her hand. "Really, I've got tons. The troops come in just for the candy. For some of them, it's the only way I can get them in here short of a direct order. Of course coffee and chocolate works better with some."  
  
John plucked a green sucker from the basket and popped it into his mouth. "Thanks. I thought you were making fun of me."  
  
Janet laughed, thinking of Cassandra's addiction to the lollipops. Janet had bought them for her, but when word spread through the base that the doctor had lollipops, all the troops started asking for one when they came for their physicals. Big babies, the lot of them.   
  
"Okay John, swing around so I can see your back." She waited while John pulled his feet up and swung them over the table to the other side.  
  
"Well, there is some swelling here. I'm going to prescribe an anti-inflammatory, that should relieve the swelling. I want to start working with you on some pain management techniques right away. We'll start tomorrow." Janet finished prodding at his back and stood straight. "Okay, you can get dressed."  
  
John mumbled something and fumbled with his pants. Finally getting them fastened, he reached down and picked up his regulation tee-shirt. As he was pulling the shirt over his head, he heard the door open and footsteps. Quickly, he yanked the shirt down all the way and found himself face to face with Sam.  
  
"Oh, Doctor Carter, I am so sorry. I didn't know you were having a physical. I should have knocked." Sam stood looking at John, her face burning.   
  
John's face had deepened to an even darker crimson then before. He wasn't embarrassed to be caught in the act of getting a physical, or by the fact that he was half dressed. But Sam was sure to have seen the large scar from his surgery running up and down his chest, accompanied by a smaller scar from the colostomy. It wasn't something John cared to publicize, but now Sam knew. Before long, the Colonel, Teal'c and Doctor Jackson would know as well-if the SGC's grape vine were anything like that of County General's. Damn, the whole base will know now.   
  
Yanking at his shoes and fumbling to tie them, John stammered, "It's alright, don't worry about it." He grabbed his shirt and moved towards the door when Janet appeared holding a bottle.  
  
"Whoa John. We're not done." Seeing Sam, Janet paused, then noticed the matching red faces. Oh boy, what did I just walk into? Janet surveyed them both for a moment before deciding that yes, Sam had definitely seen something she shouldn't have seen. Probably the scars. Well John, the cat's out of the bag, what are you going to do now?  
  
"Sam, hello. When did you come in?"  
  
"Ah, just a few seconds ago. The Colonel sent me up to see if Doctor Carter was ready for lunch, or if you were still in surgery. But you both seem busy, so I'll just go and let the Colonel know."  
  
Janet put out her hand and stopped Sam. "We're done here. Just wait a minute and John can go with you. John, why don't we go in my office for a minute."  
  
Sam sunk down into one of the hard chairs and waited nervously for John to return. Great. Way to go Sam! If things weren't awkward enough before, now they'll be even worse. Well, the Colonel was right, the doctor is hiding something. But I doubt it has anything to do with being a spy. Throw that theory right out the window. Something had happened to the doctor, and from the looks of those scars, it wasn't pretty. Now what? Should I approach him about it or hope he talks to me? Should I ignore it? I don't want him to think I'm going to run right out and tell everyone what I saw. We don't do things that way here. I don't do things that way.  
  
Sam's thoughts were interrupted by the return of the two doctors. John's face was closer to a normal shade of pink, and Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully Janet clued him in that Sam was trustworthy and not to worry about her telling anyone what she saw. But that doesn't change the fact that Sam saw something, knows something, the doctor didn't want to share with anyone else.   
  
"Ready Doctor Carter?" John nodded in response then turned to Janet.  
  
"Thanks Janet. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Bye John." Janet watched as Sam and John walked out of the infirmary, together but as far apart as they could manage without being too obvious. She shook her head and went back into her office.  
  
If John didn't share what happened to him, and it began to affect him in the field, he would be endangering the rest of the team. Janet didn't want to break John's trust, but if it came down to it, she would be forced to tell Jack what John had gone through. She hoped that it wouldn't come to that; that John would learn to trust his team enough to open up to them. Maybe if the rest of the team opened up to him first, he might be more willing. Life with SG1 was never easy, why did she expect adopting a new team member would go smoothly?  
  
*****  
  
Sam walked next John, her arms folded over her chest, her eyes straight ahead. She glanced over at John and noted the tense look on his face, the straight posture. Come on Sam, say something. Don't let this get worse. You're a major in the U.S. Air Force, fight alien lizards who inhabit other bodies and fly around in large pyramids, but you're afraid to talk to your new team mate. Coward.  
  
Still walking, Sam spoke, "I won't tell anyone what I saw."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Sam looked at John again and saw that his face was crimson again and his jaw more rigid than before. He too had brought his arms up over his chest, but unlike Sam, the gesture looked protective. If a hole were to open up in the floor in front of them, Sam thought the doctor would probably jump right down into it and pull it closed over him.   
  
Sam stopped abruptly. "Doctor Carter. Stop. Please." Sam waited for John to stop and then went on. "Yes, I saw your scars. I know that something happened to you. I just want you to know that if you decide you want to tell someone what happened, I'm a good listener. But I promise I won't tell anyone about this. Not now, not ever, unless you give the okay. I hope you do decide to tell someone, talk to someone. I know how hard it can be when you don't."  
  
John looked down at his feet and then slowly raised his eyes to meet Sam's gaze. The tone in her voice. She knew. She knew what it felt like to go through something so terrible you don't think you could tell anyone. She knew, and she did what John was so afraid to do. She reached out. John guessed that whatever had happened to Major Samantha Carter, she shared it with the rest of the team. He'd seen them together. They looked like a family. Constantly together. Backing each other up. Respecting each other. Listening to one another. No one seemed afraid of anyone else. Wasn't this what John wanted back at County General, only to have it slip through his fingers?  
  
Sam knew the look on John's face well, the look they all had when they were finally ready to talk. He opened his mouth to speak and Sam stopped him.  
  
"Why don't we go out for lunch and we can talk. Oh, and one last thing. Please, enough of this Major business. Call me Sam."  
  
"Okay 'Sam'. Then you have to call me something other than Doctor Carter. I've never been used to hearing that. In Chicago, it was usually just plain 'Carter'. But I think in this case that might get a little confusing, so why don't you just call me John."  
  
"All right John. Let's get some lunch. You like Mexican?"  
  
*****  
  
"Doctor Carter, so nice of you to join me. I thought for a minute you were standing me up." Jack looked expectantly at the young doctor-too young. Hell, inexperienced doesn't describe this kid. What's he doing joining up with a top secret military branch in the middle of nowhere? He must have family somewhere; why didn't they stop him from making the worst mistake of his life? Just letting him play hero. He should be back, where-ever he came from, safe in some civilian hospital. Not out here training to kill some snake possessed lunatic or snake babysitter before they killed him.   
  
"You ever use one of these before?" Jack held up a handgun and twirled it in his fingers. John eyed the gun warily as it spun on Jack's finger and prayed it wasn't loaded.   
  
"A handgun, yes. Whether it was that particular handgun, I don't know."   
  
Jack cocked his head to the side and contemplated whether that counted as a wise crack, or if he should just chalk it up to nerves on the doctor's part.   
  
"So, did you hit your target?" Jack watched as John shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"No sir."  
  
"Did you come close to hitting your target?"  
  
"No sir." John's voice was getting quieter.  
  
"Did you hit anything?" Jack prayed the answer to this wouldn't involve people.  
  
"Only a clock sir." John's face flushed and he realized that he found himself blushing quite often at the SGC.   
  
A clock. The kid took out a clock. Jack watched as John studied the weapons he had laid out for the lesson. A 9mm pistol, an M16A2 rifle, Mosberg model 590 12 gauge shotgun, and an M240 series machine gun. John's face held the mixed looks of interest and revolt as he peered at the guns. A hand reached forward, towards the pistol.  
  
"Don't touch that!"   
  
John snatched his hand back like he had been slapped and looked at Jack.   
  
"I'm sorry sir." John stepped away from the line of guns and waited while Jack glared at him.  
  
"Don't touch unless I give the okay. Got it?"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
Damn, the kid was going to give him a heart attack. Jack tried hard to push away the memories that were fighting to surface. His son, his dead son. Dead because he touched Jack's pistol. Because Jack wasn't careful, wasn't watching. Dead because of Jack. Then he thought of Skaara and his curiosity for the weapons Jack's team had with them when they made first contact with Abydos. Had reached for the weapon just like the new doctor. Didn't they realize the devastation the guns create? Of course they don't-not at first. But Skaara and his friends had used the weapons, they learned first hand the power of these machines. As would the doctor.   
  
Jack handed John the empty pistol he was still holding. "M9. Same as that one there," Jack said, nodding towards the 9mm John had been reaching for.   
  
John took the gun and held it in his hand, turning it over and looking at it from all angles.   
  
"It's light."  
  
"Yeah, and it's safe, provided you learn how to use it correctly and care for it. It's also lethal. You don't want to be on the receiving end of that."  
  
John focused on the gun in his hands again. He was disturbed by the growing feelings of comfort the gun provided. He didn't want to rely on a weapon for peace of mind. But he knew he also wouldn't hesitate to use it when the situation called for it. But would he be able to judge when the situation was right? Or would he shoot first and ask questions later? The thoughts were disturbing and John started to hand the gun back to Jack.  
  
Jack took the gun and pulled out a clip, inserting it into the pistol. He put on the safety and handed the gun back to John. After showing John how to work the safety, and bestowing a few warnings of gun safety, he turned John towards the firing range.   
  
"No clocks out here, so I guess you'll have to make due with the target."  
  
John could feel sweat begin to form on his forehead, his heart beat more forcefully in his chest, and his breath caught in his throat as he aimed at the black cutout of a human head and torso. John struggled to focus on the target, but it kept swimming out of focus, only to be replaced by the image of Paul Sobricki. Dammit John! He had a psychotic break, Sobricki doesn't deserve to be punished, at least not this way! Every time John tried to clear his head, the image reappeared. John could feel his hands begin to shake, and the anger built within him. Come on John, the Colonel's waiting to see what you're made of. Get a grip! Finally, John gave in to his rage and began to shoot at the target, shoot at Sobricki. John pulled the trigger, shooting until the clip was empty.   
  
John could feel his eyes tear, and the image in front of him blurred. Dammit! Why did he give in? Was this all he was? Was this what he had been reduced to? The drugs didn't work, so hell, why not go join the Air Force and become a killing machine. Maybe that would ease the pain that lingered, even after all this time. John could feel his hands begin to shake violently and he fought to control them. Blindly, he shoved the gun towards Jack and stumbled away, away from the killer he was to become, away from the rage.   
  
Jack watched, bewildered as John rushed away from the firing range. Jeez, he thought Daniel was bad when it came to weapons. Jack closed his eyes and hoped that John wasn't another pacifist. Jack leaned over and pressed the button to recall the target. As it approached, Jack stared at it, stunned. John had hit every shot.   



	6. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: ER/ characters are property of nbc, warner bros, constant c, amblin, etc. Stargate SG1/ characters are property of showtime/ viacom, mgm/ua, double secret productions, gekko productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only-no profit involved.  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part Six  
By: Victoria F.  
  
John paced outside of Sam's office as his concern grew. Where were Sam and Doctor Jackson? He'd been meeting with them almost daily for the past three weeks, same time, same place to learn the history of the SGC and the Goa'uld. Today, John had been waiting for an hour, without a sign of either of his team mates. Beginning to feel foolish as the minutes passed, John wandered to the closest check point.  
  
"Excuse me, ah, Airman Petry. I'm supposed to be meeting with Major Carter and Doctor Jackson this morning. Could you tell me their whereabouts?"  
  
"Yes Sir. Both Major Carter and Doctor Jackson, as well as the rest of SG1 are meeting with General Hammond."  
  
"Oh. Thank you." John turned away from the airman and slowly walked back down the hall.   
  
'The rest of SG1'. What was that supposed to mean? Wasn't he part of SG1? He didn't feel like it most of the time. No one on base seemed to recognize the fact either. Beginning to feel like he was just tagging along, John could feel his resentment grow. Why was he here? He'd given up his life for this, and he was still being treated like an outsider. Hell, it's been almost a month and he was still left out of any SG1 related business.   
  
Giving the wall a small kick, John changed directions and headed towards the infirmary. At least there he felt like he belonged. Janet had embraced the new doctor and John was thankful for that. Janet not only allowed John free reign of the infirmary, his surgical skills were developing at an astonishing rate. All the SG teams knew John, but not as one of their own. Instead, he was the new doc working with Janet. Still, it was a good feeling to know he fit in somewhere. Sighing as he silently accepted his place in the larger scheme of the SGC, John entered the infirmary.  
  
*****  
  
"At ease SG1."   
  
Colonel O'Neill and his team relaxed and settled back into their chairs as General Hammond walked to the front of the briefing table. In his hands, he held a pile of briefing folders. Rather than hand them around to the waiting members of SG1, he set them aside and surveyed the team in front of him.   
  
"Sir? Are we briefing on a mission? I thought we were meeting to debrief on Doctor Carter's progress." Sam questioned.  
  
"We are Major. The debriefing will be followed by a mission briefing."   
  
"Yes Sir."  
  
"Unfortunately, time is short so I'd like to get started right away. Doctor Carter has been on base for three weeks now, and I'd like to know what you all see as being his strengths and weaknesses at this mark. Major, why don't you start by giving your report on how Doctor Carter's studies are coming along."  
  
"Yes Sir. Well, Doctor Carter has shown diligence in this area. I believe he knows the early history of the SGC backwards and forwards. At this time, he is familiarizing himself with the current SG teams as well as the functions of other essential SGC personnel. He has also begun to review past mission reports. This is slow going as Doctor Frasier has requested that Doctor Carter not only view the files for their historic value, but also for their medical value."  
  
"And your impressions Major?"  
  
"I can't help but be impressed General. To put it bluntly, Doctor Carter has covered material that I thought we'd be covering two weeks from now. At first I was concerned that he was not fully comprehending all that he was studying. But after lengthy discussions with him concerning the history, I am convinced that yes, he understands and comprehends all that he has learned thus far. I had shared my concerns with Doctor Frasier who reminded me that Doctor Carter was still in the midst of a residency before he joined us, and the rate of knowledge absorption for student doctors is quite high and something of which Doctor Carter was quite accustomed to. At this point, General, I have no reservations."  
  
"Thank you Major. Doctor Jackson, please add to this."  
  
"Uh, yes Sir General. I wish I could say that the doctor's progress studying the system lords and the Goa'uld threat was as expeditious as his knowledge of the SGC, but I can't. However, Doctor Carter is absorbing the information at the rate I had expected. In other words, he is meeting expectations. To date, Doctor Carter is familiar with the Goa'uld who have had any contact with SGC personnel. Doctor Carter also has some familiarity with the Tok'ra and the Ancients. Lastly, Doctor Carter is familiar with Earth's history in conjunction with the Goa'uld and the lingering threat to Earth from the Goa'uld system lords. While I don't hold any real concern that the doctor won't learn this history fully, I don't believe he'll fully understand or comprehend the threat until he sees firsthand what he's been learning."  
  
"Thank you Doctor Jackson. Colonel? Teal'c? How's he coming with his weapons and defense training?" The General looked at the two final members of SG1 who had been sitting quietly through the meeting.  
  
Jack answered first, "Doctor Carter is proving to be quite proficient with small arms General. I expect to able to certify him for a side arm within the next week or so. In addition, he has been working with shotguns, rifles and automatic weapons. While I have introduced him to the use of grenades, I have not started him on a training regimen for explosives or for the Goa'uld technology such as Teal'c's staff weapon or Zat guns."  
  
"Concerns Colonel?"  
  
Jack paused, his face reflecting the apprehension his mind held towards giving the doctor the go ahead for carrying a side arm. Struggling to put his concern into words, Jack's eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he spoke.   
  
"It's hard to put into words General, but something's not quite right. The doctor's proving to be a crack shot, but when I questioned him on previous use of handguns, he'd only shot one once. And it was far from its mark. But I'm not seeing anything like that. Either he was lying about his inexperience, or something's going on up here . . ." Jack paused as he tapped his head with his finger before going on, "which is acting as quite a motivator. And if that's the case, yes I have concerns. I want to know my people are going to be safe when we're out there as a team; that we can fully count on each other to back us up. I've seen some looks on the good doctor's face which have given me chills General."  
  
"Concern noted Colonel. Teal'c?"  
  
Surprised at the pointed dismissal of his concerns, Jack turned to give Sam a questioning look. Instead of catching her eye, Jack saw that she sat with her head down, arms folded across her chest, and a definite look of concern on her face. Okay, now what is going on here? Jack turned back to face Teal'c as he began to speak.  
  
"I have found Doctor Carter to be clumsy and slow. He demonstrates a poor sense of equilibrium, and his body is weak. However, Doctor Carter is prompt, eager, and practices the techniques I teach him with relish. His courage grows each day as does his strength and balance. He will be prepared to defend himself at the three month mark per your request General."  
  
"And do you have any concerns Teal'c?"  
  
"Any concerns I held have been placated by my daily interactions with the doctor. Once he has defeated the demons within, he will make a worthy warrior."  
  
Sam's head jerked up at this last statement and she looked up at Teal'c in astonishment. John hadn't told her that he had confided in Teal'c. Why would he keep that secret? Was there more that she didn't know about?  
  
The General, also surprised at this revelation questioned Teal'c, "What demons?"  
  
"He has not shared that with me General. I only know that they exist."  
  
"Thank you Teal'c. I believe I have all the information that I need. I will be meeting with Doctor Carter today to fully brief him on this review. As I stated before, we are short on time so I would like to dive right into the mission briefing." General Hammond began to pass around the briefing folders.  
  
"This is a standard search and retrieval mission. SG4 was scheduled to visit P248X484 and in preparation the MALP was sent through to collect data. Unfortunately, the MALP appears to have a fault which has caused it to ignore its programming to return to the gate on the planet as scheduled. The MALP continued to travel and send back data over the last 24 hours. This is the last image we received." The General turned off the lights and SG1 watched as the MALP neared a ravine and instead of stopping, drove over the edge. Then the video-feed turned to static.   
  
"The data has been analyzed and the planet appears to be deserted. There are no signs of life, past or present. The climate is hospitable, the temperature hovering at sixty-three degrees by day, thirty-five degrees once the suns set. This should be an easy mission, however, the MALP is a good two days walk from the gate."  
  
"Sir, why isn't SG4 going?" Sam questioned.  
  
"SG4, Major, is out of commission at the moment. Seems they caught a strain of flu off-world. All are on their way to recovery, but have not been cleared by Doctor Frasier. You are the only team on a light schedule at the moment. I need you ready to depart in one hour. Any questions team?"  
  
After receiving two "No Sirs", a slight shrug from Daniel, and an empty look from Teal'c, General Hammond continued.  
  
"One other thing. Doctor Jackson will not be joining you on this mission."  
  
"General?" Daniel turned to look at the General, his face puzzled.  
  
"I have a project I need you on here son. If you could wait a moment, I will brief you."  
  
"Yes Sir." Daniel gave his team a wide eyed look and reclaimed his seat.  
  
"The rest of you are dismissed."  
  
Jack turned to Daniel. "I guess we'll see you in a couple days."  
  
Daniel shrugged, "Guess so." Daniel watched as the rest of his team walked out of the briefing room and wondered what project the General had for him. Expectantly, he turned to face the General.  
  
"General?"  
  
*****  
  
Janet replaced the phone receiver and walked into the infirmary. Spotting John, she walked over.  
  
"John, that was General Hammond. He'd like to see you in his office."  
  
John quickly wrote on the chart he was holding and placed it back at the foot of the bed of one of SG4s members. The man was recovering from the flu-bug the team brought back from them from off-world, with no lingering ill effects. Luckily, the germ had been easy to contain and only a few other personnel had caught the bug.   
  
"Yeah, okay. Thanks Janet." John shook off the lab coat he was wearing and pulled his military issued shirt on over his black tee-shirt. Still buttoning and adjusting his uniform, John walked out of the infirmary.  
  
Why did the General want to see him? Was it a coincidence that the rest of SG1 had just been in a meeting with the General? Had that meeting been about him? If so, why not just include him in the meeting then? John's head raced with questions, and he forced himself to slow down and breath deeply. Sure, he felt like an outsider, and yes, his place on the SG1 team seemed to go overlooked. But he had been brought aboard the project to join SG1 and up until today, he hadn't been told otherwise. Determined not to let his worries consume him, John approached the General's office and knocked.  
  
"Come!"  
  
The General looked up to see John standing in the doorway. Motioning for John to enter, the General looked him in the eye.   
  
"Doctor Carter. Please, sit down." The General waited for John to sit before continuing.   
  
"I have been reviewing your progress since you joined the SGC and I feel it's time we met to go over this progress. I have consulted the rest of your team and have received their impressions as well as concerns. Both Major Carter and Doctor Jackson assure me that you are on task with your history lessons. Major Carter has indicated that you are doing quite well with SGC's history. Doctor Jackson on the other hand has given me the impression that while you are learning about the Goa'uld and the system lords, you haven't fully processed that information. Rather than allow you to see it to believe it, as Doctor Jackson suggested, I prefer you spend more time studying the Goa'uld and less time on the SGC at this point. Are you following me?"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Good. Now Teal'c has indicated both your strengths and weaknesses when it comes to self-defense. I will trust his judgement that you will be ready for off-world missions when the time comes. Granted you can increase your speed, equilibrium, agility and strength, Teal'c sees you as having the potential to become a 'worthy warrior'. Those are his words not mine.  
  
"Finally, Colonel O'Neill has reported that you are capable with a gun and plans on certifying you to carry a side arm within the next week or so. Plan on spending more time at the firing range as you are introduced to the Goa'uld weapons. With me so far?"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"While the reports I have been receiving have been favorable, there have been some concerns raised. I am aware of everything you have gone through in the past year, not to mention even earlier than that. It's my job to know my people, to know all the factors that play into whether or not as a soldier you'll come through for your team. For the SGC. For Earth. This isn't a game we're playing here. This is life or death. I don't feel it's necessary to share the details of your life with Colonel O'Neill or the rest of your team. For now I feel it's adequate that Doctor Frasier and myself have this knowledge. The concerns that have been raised make me believe that perhaps you have some things that must be dealt with before I can send you off-world. Are you understanding me son?"  
  
John nodded, his face impassive. Of course he understood. He knew the General would have to confront him sooner or later. It was hard to hide his feelings that surged forth whenever he held a gun or fired it. Feelings sparked by the resurgent memories of the attack and the hate that came with. But not just hate. Guilt. Self-loathing. Pity. Doubt. He wished that there was some other driving force behind his progress with Teal'c, but he could not refute that it was fear alone.   
  
"Alright. SG1, with the exception of yourself and Doctor Jackson have been sent off-world on a mission that should last approximately four days. Both you and Doctor Jackson have been placed on stand down until their return. I suggest you use this time to get off base for awhile. I am aware that you have been working nonstop since your arrival. Doctor Frasier has been instructed to deny you access to the infirmary during your stand down. Perhaps you could use this time to obtain an off base apartment. While convenient, your quarters on base are barely adequate or comfortable."  
  
John grimaced slightly at the mention of finding an apartment. That took money, and John didn't have a lot of that at the moment. His savings had been drained to pay the deductibles for his stay in rehab. His family had been unwilling to take on that burden. His mistake, his responsibility. John had received only one paycheck so far from the SGC and it was barely enough to make a deposit, let alone pay first months rent and purchase furnishings. Finding an apartment would have to wait.  
  
The General watched as John's face betrayed him his feelings once again. Silently, the General reached into a drawer and withdrew an envelope.   
  
"I just want you to know son, that I've been watching your progress and your enthusiasm and am extremely pleased with what I've been seeing. I know that when I explained what would be expected of you, this included weapons, self defense, and historical studies, with only minimal time in the infirmary. I see you meeting all of these expectations, but I haven't overlooked that fact that you're still working almost full time in the infirmary.   
  
"While it's not standard procedure, I feel compelled to provide you with a token of gratitude for a job well done." With that, the General handed John the envelope.   
  
Curious, John opened the envelope and was startled when he realized that he had just been handed a check. A rather large check.   
  
"Um, General, I think maybe there's been a mistake. . .." John trailed off when the General raised a hand.  
  
"There's been no mistake son. Just accept it and know that it doesn't happen that often."   
  
'If ever,' the General thought to himself. However, the General had recently received a phone call from the doctor's grandfather and suffice to say, it wasn't pleasant. The General could hear the elder Carter's words still ringing in his ears.  
  
'I demand that you release my grandson from your service immediately. He's in no shape, physically or mentally to be working for the government. Who the hell do you think you are accepting employment from him? Couldn't you tell that he's not capable of making this type of decision on his own? He had a job back in Chicago, a job which his family had finally accepted. He's just been through a gruesome attack which he barely survived. He'd just been released from rehab and was barely settled back into his old job before your people waved this preposterous offer in front of him.'  
  
The General had tried talking to him calmly, then firmly, his own voice finally matching the other man's tone.  
  
'From what I've seen Mr. Carter, John has made this decision with a clear head and fully understands what his position here entails. We did nothing to coerce your grandson into coming here. Perhaps we weren't aware of his circumstances at the time the job offer was extended, but John is an adult and I not believe he made this decision in haste. I will not release him from service unless he requests that I do so. Do you understand?'  
  
The General had literally cringed when the other man practically shouted into the phone, 'Then you can tell that spoiled grandson of mine that he will be receiving no further financial assistance from his family, and we will not be expecting him for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Nor will we be accepting any phone calls until this situation is resolved!' With that, the man had slammed the phone down, ending the call.   
  
His mind suddenly back in the present, General Hammond folded his hands calmly and addressed John.  
  
"Have you been staying in contact with your family Doctor Carter?"  
  
John looked as if he had just been slapped. He remembered the letter that had just returned to him, stamped, 'Return to Sender'. Unopened. Unread. He'd tried calling a few times, but each time was told the family was out and would return the call. He had received no calls since his arrival on the base. John knew what was happening. He knew his parents and grandfather were against him being here. But he hadn't expected this treatment from his grandmother.   
  
Looking at the General he answered, "No Sir." John hesitated for a moment and then went on, "I've tried Sir, but I've been having some difficulty contacting anyone. I'm sure they'll call, or write."  
  
"Of course son. Keep trying." The General tried to keep his tone light. He knew it would be a long time before the doctor heard from his family. He just hoped it would happen before Christmas. But in the meantime, the doctor couldn't spend all his time lurking about the base. Especially when Thanksgiving was only a week away. Thus the bonus. Not standard issue. But the concern behind it was.   
  
"Dismissed."  
  
John stood and walked towards the door, his fingers just brushing the doorknob when the General stopped him.  
  
"One last thing Doctor. Doctor Jackson tends to spend a little too much time on base with his nose buried in his work. It's not healthy. And with the rest of your team off-world, I'm sure that he's already glued to his desk pouring over a translation. Perhaps you could invite him along on your apartment hunt? It would do him a world of good."  
  
John looked at the General and noted the concern in his eyes, mistakenly believing that the recipient of the concern was Daniel. "Of course Sir."  
  
John slipped out leaving General Hammond alone. Smiling to himself, the General sank back in his chair. Mission accomplished.   



	7. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: ER/ characters are property of nbc, warner bros, constant c, amblin, etc. Stargate SG1/ characters are property of showtime/ viacom, mgm/ua, double secret productions, gekko productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only-no profit involved.  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part Seven  
By: Victoria F.  
  
"Well, what do you think?"  
  
"I think it's the fifth apartment we've looked at and you're not going to take this one either, are you?"  
  
Daniel looked at John and sighed. No, the doctor wasn't going to take this apartment. He'd find some fault like he'd found in the last four. Too small. Too large. Not enough closets. Not enough windows. Daniel was beginning to suspect that the doctor was purposely finding things wrong with each apartment. What, so he wouldn't have to leave the base? Even Daniel looked forward to escaping back to his own place every once and a while.   
  
"Just let me look around. I haven't decided yet. This isn't something you just rush into you know. I mean, if it's going to be my home for the next who knows how long, I want it to be right."  
  
John walked into the kitchen and pulled open the door to the fridge. A bit small. Shrugging indifferently, he moved on to the stove. Gas. Could be a problem. No garbage disposal. But at least there was a dishwasher! Moving on, John pushed open a narrow door off the kitchen and stepped into a small laundry room. Nice touch. No laundromats to deal with. John turned and crossed through the kitchen and back into the living room. Not exactly Gamma's sitting room, but it was nice enough. John walked over to the large patio doors and peered out. Decent balcony. Room enough for a barbecue and a few chairs. John tried the blinds. They worked.   
  
Daniel watched as John poked into every corner of the apartment, opening doors, checking windows, pushing the smoke alarm until it emitted a high pitched beep. Watched as he headed into the bathroom and could hear as the cabinets opened and closed. The shower was turned on, then the sink. Then the toilet went through its own set of tortures. Finally John emerged, not looking as happy as a man should upon learning that his throne was top of the line. Silently, he drifted into the bedroom.   
  
Daniel waited patiently for John to come back and make his decision. Minutes passed with no sign of John emerging from the bedroom. Daniel's patience began to wear thin as his mind drifted back to his office on base and the awaiting artifacts within.   
  
"Doctor Carter? Done yet?" No answer. "Doctor Carter? John?"  
  
With growing concern, Daniel pushed himself off the floor where he had settled down to wait and walked towards the bedroom. He could see John standing with his back to the door, unmoving.   
  
"John?" Again, no answer. Disturbed by the doctor's silence, Daniel walked up to the still man and gently touched his shoulder. Big mistake. Before he could utter John's name again, Daniel felt a quick yank on his arm before his body launched off the ground in a dizzying arc, slamming into the ground below. Dazed, he found himself looking up at one very frightened doctor.   
  
"John? You okay? I didn't mean to scare you. Could you let me up please?"  
  
John stared down at the man he had pinned on the floor. Daniel. John stared at the wide eyed scientist for a moment more before releasing him and slowly standing. His heart raced as he backed away. What did I do? I just attacked a member of my own team. I shouldn't be here. I can't do this. John stumbled out of the bedroom and across the living room. Pulling the blinds aside, he slid the patio door open and stepped out. Fresh air washed over him and he could feel his nerves begin to settle. Reaching into his pockets in a desperate search, his fingers finally wrapped around their prize. John withdrew the packet of cigarettes and pulled one out. His fingers fumbled with the green bic lighter until a flame suddenly burst forth. With shaking hands, John raised the small torch 'til it washed over the tip of the cigarette and drew a deep breath. Leaning over the railing, he exhaled slowly and dropped his head onto his clenched hands.   
  
Once released from John's grip, Daniel quickly got to his feet and followed John from the bedroom. He stopped at the patio door, unsure of how to proceed. He didn't want to risk a repeat incident. He was already sore from his little visit with the bedroom floor. It was obvious the self-defense lessons were paying off. Teal'c would be proud. From the safety of the living room, Daniel watched as John lit a cigarette, his body slumping forward against the railing.   
  
Daniel knew fear well and the look was unmistakable as it emanated from the doctor's face when he looked down at Daniel. Something had triggered that fear, but Daniel knew that if John didn't want to talk about it, asking would only result in John putting up all his defenses. No, asking was no good. He would wait. Sooner or later John would talk. They all did.   
  
"Hey John. You know what? I'm starving. Let's get some dinner and you can decide if you want this apartment while we're eating."  
  
John's eyes opened as the words floated out to the patio. Dinner? No comment on the fact that I just introduced you to the carpet in the most indelicate way possible? You're not even going to ask if I'm 'okay'? Or, do I need a straight jacket? Just, let's go get some dinner. Hmm, sounds good.  
  
"Yeah. Dinner," John paused, "I don't think I'm going to take this apartment."  
  
"I figured. Carpet was a bit scratchy. Pizza? Chinese? Italian? Buffet?"  
  
John smashed the butt of his cigarette onto the railing and flicked it over the edge. "Pizza sounds good."  
  
*****  
  
"Smell that fresh air. It's too bad Daniel had to miss this. His allergies would love this place!"  
  
"Very funny Colonel. What project do you think General Hammond had for Daniel that was so important he couldn't come with us?" Sam looked questioningly at Jack.  
  
"I don't know Major. Probably some exciting new rock or piece of playdough with little squiggles all over it. Or maybe it's a top secret mission and we were sent here to keep us out of the way. Either way, he's stuck on base, and we're out here on vacation. It doesn't get better than this. And the bonus is, no playing hide and go seek with Daniel." Jack grinned at his sudden revelation. Yeah, Daniel was his friend, his best friend. But even on this gentle planet, Daniel for sure would have fallen into a hole or gotten swept away by hidden Goa'uld by now. That was just Danny-luck. No ill feelings intended. Just reality. Reality tended to suck where Daniel was concerned.   
  
Teal'c, who had been walking behind the two Earth military officers, bobbed up along side of Jack. "It is unfortunate that Daniel Jackson was unable to join this mission. I believe he would have enjoyed this planet. As would Doctor Carter. There appear to be no threatening creatures nearby and no anomalies to the terrain. Perhaps we can return for Doctor Carter's first trip through the stargate."  
  
Jack's grin grew even wider as he slapped his hand down on Teal'c's shoulder. "Teal'c! You're a genius! That's the perfect excuse to come back to this little vacation spot."  
  
Sam rolled her eyes as she took point and continued her steady trek across the grassy plain. She could see a grove of trees in the distance and figured they could break camp when they reached that point. It looked like it was a good two hours away. Turning her face upwards, Sam enjoyed the sensation of feeling the two suns warming her face. Feeling like a little girl, she stooped down and picked a white flower resembling a daisy. This could only get better if I had a kite. The blue sky was clear and the wind was gentle, little more than a breeze. It tousled Sam's hair as it carried along the smell of spring.   
  
"Let's move it Major!" Sam snapped to attention and realized that Jack and Teal'c had passed her and were now several meters ahead. Straightening her pack, Sam quickened her pace and settled in behind the others. Feeling her body go into autopilot, Sam's mind began to drift again. Memories of a childhood long gone welcomed the soldier. Images of dolls were crowded out by toy guns and plastic hand grenades. Rescue missions to save her kidnapped dollies soon took precedence over tea parties. All her tea parties usually ended up in the middle of a war anyway. At first her father had tried to coax her brother into playing the little soldier, but when it became obvious he wasn't about to play the part, Sam stepped up. Used to being ignored or cast aside as useless, Sam quickly learned that sweetness and spice would do her no good to earn her father's graces. He wanted a soldier, and Sam was determined to give him one.   
  
Underneath the military facade, still lie the little girl with blond pigtails. The little girl who took the time to pick the flowers, to fling her arms wide and breath in the fresh scents of nature. The little girl who's heart ached when her friends were hurt or when the years of sadness overwhelmed them. The little girl who kept Sam from taking that final step forward and becoming the perfect little soldier. The little girl who missed her friend Danny when he couldn't come out to play. The little girl who held the new doctor's hand when he destroyed her visions of love and candy hearts on Valentine's Day.   
  
Sam felt a chill and rubbed her arms. Looking forward, she realized they were near the site she had scouted earlier. The suns were setting and deep shadows stretched out across the ground.   
  
"Sir! We should probably set up camp once we reach those trees!"  
  
"Agreed!" Jack fell back and walked along side of Sam. "When we get there, you and Teal'c set up camp while I secure the area."  
  
"Yes Sir."  
  
"So, what's on your mind Major? Or doesn't my and Teal'c's company appeal to you anymore?"  
  
"It's not that Sir. This planet just brings back a lot of memories."  
  
"Good memories I hope."  
  
"Mostly Sir." Sam fell silent again and walked the rest of the way mute. Unfazed, Jack increased his pace until he was walking with Teal'c. Sam watched as the two talked and wondered what the Jaffa could possibly have to converse with Jack about. But oddly enough, they always found something to go on about. If only Daniel were here, Sam mused.  
  
*****  
  
"So who gets the last piece?"  
  
Daniel pushed the pizza tin towards John. "It's yours. I can't eat another bite."  
  
John grabbed the final piece and caught a gob of cheese and green peppers that had tumbled over the side. Piling the toppings back on top of the pizza, John took a bite.   
  
"This is really good. I thought we had good pizza back in Chicago, but this. . . this is great. I'm in pizza heaven."   
  
Daniel sat back and watched the doctor eat. Unbelievable. The man had an insatiable appetite. He'd better watch it or Janet will have him counting calories.   
  
"So, Doctor Carter, why weren't any of the apartments we saw good enough?"   
  
"J..aw...w..n."  
  
"I'm sorry, what?"  
  
John swallowed his mouthful of pizza and repeated himself. "John. My name is John. I'm sorry, I just can't get used to people calling me Doctor Carter. It just doesn't sound right."  
  
"What? No one called you Doctor Carter in Chicago?"  
  
John shifted uncomfortably. "No, actually. It was usually just 'Carter'. Started when I was in med school and stuck."  
  
"Oh. Well, Daniel's fine too."  
  
"You sure? Three doctorates. That's a tough one to ignore." John looked over at Daniel and wondered how he had managed to obtain three Ph.D.s and he was only a few years older than John.   
  
Now it was Daniel's turn to look uncomfortable. "I'm sure. So, back to my question. What was wrong with those apartments?"  
  
John shrugged and looked down. "Nothing. I just. . . haven't been on my own in a while. I guess I'm not looking forward to going home and being alone every time I step off the base."  
  
"Were you living with someone back in Chicago? Girlfriend? Roommate?"  
  
John's face flushed as he answered. "My grandparents. I. . . had an accident, and was staying with them while I recuperated. Before that, I usually had roommates." Images of Kerry and of Dennis Gant flickered in his mind before receding back to their hiding places.   
  
"You can't really live on base. It will get crowded. You should take one of the apartments while you have the chance."   
  
John sighed and rubbed his face before dropping his head into his hands. Then came the muffled reply, "I know."  
  
Daniel watched John for a moment in silence. Then he grabbed his jacket and stood up. "Let's go."  
  
John looked up, startled. "Go where?"  
  
"I have the perfect apartment for you." Daniel walked out of the restaurant with John trailing behind.   
  
Twenty minutes later, John followed Daniel down a long hallway before they finally stopped in front of an apartment door. Daniel reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys.   
  
"Why do you have the keys?"  
  
"Because it's my apartment," Daniel said as he pushed the door open and walked in. Once inside, he began to walk from room to room, pushing open doors and gesturing inside. "Living room, kitchen, bathroom, my bedroom, your bedroom, computer room or den, library, whatever you prefer to call it."  
  
John followed him, stunned at the offer. "You don't have to do this. I can find my own place."  
  
"You can move out when you're ready. A friend did this for me and now I'm just passing on the favor. I won't mind having someone around as long as you don't mind me prowling around in the middle of the night."  
  
John laughed. "You might have company. I have trouble sleeping sometimes."  
  
"See? Compatible already. So, are you interested? I can clear some room on the shelves here. You can use the computer as long as you promise not to delete anything. I'm not a heavy drinker, so you'll have to get your own if you are."  
  
John shook his head. "Don't drink, at least, not anymore." After looking around the apartment for a minute, John already knew his answer. Yes. He already felt at home and could feel himself relaxing.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Let's head back to the base and you can grab whatever you've got. Tomorrow, I guess we shop. A man can't live in fatigues alone. And no offense, that suit you had on your first day wasn't much better. Not to mention you'll have to get sheets, towels, pizza . . .."  
  
Chuckling to himself, John silently agreed. The day hadn't turned out quite like he expected, but it had turned out to be a good day never the less.   
  
  



	8. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: ER/ characters are property of nbc, warner bros, constant c, amblin, etc. Stargate SG1/ characters are property of showtime/ viacom, mgm/ua, double secret productions, gekko productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only-no profit involved.  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part Eight  
By: Victoria F.  
  
Sam pulled her jacket tighter around her body as she scooted closer to the fire. The night air was brisk and as Sam exhaled, she could see her breath dance in an icy mist. The heat from the fire slowly worked its way through her clothes and began to warm her. Sam stretched out her hands towards the flames.   
  
"Cozy, isn't it?" Jack said as he settled down beside her, handing her a small branch.  
  
"What's this for Sir?"  
  
"Roasting marshmallows of course. What's a camping trip without S'mores?"  
  
"This isn't exactly a camping trip Sir."  
  
"Work with me here Major. No wild animals, no Goa'uld, no angry natives. Only hard ground below us, stars twinkling above us, a fire for warmth, and us. In my book, that equals a camping trip. So what if it's government subsidized?"  
  
"And just where did you get marshmallows?"  
  
"Ah. Not just marshmallows Major. Graham crackers and chocolate bars too. I got them from the kitchen on base of course. The only thing missing . . .." Jack's voice trailed off as he looked into the fire.  
  
"Is Daniel," Sam said, finishing Jack's thought.   
  
Jack patted Sam's shoulder before getting up and moving over by Teal'c. Handing the Jaffa a stick, he showed Teal'c how to put the marshmallow on and cook it over the fire.   
  
"You have to let it cook slowly, that way the inside melts too. It's best that way."  
  
"Sir, it's getting too big. It's going to fall into the fire."  
  
"No it's not Major. You worry too much. Just a little bit more. . .." Jack slowly turned his stick so the marshmallow cooked evenly on all sides. Jack's mouth began to water as the fluffy white blob browned to perfection. Slowly pulling the stick towards him, Jack cried out as the gooey mass slid off the stick and oozed over a waiting rock. Sam laughed as Jack looked at her with hurt eyes.  
  
"Damn. Too perfect. Oh well, lots more where that came from," Jack said, pulling the full bag of white goodies into his lap.   
  
After everyone had made their S'mores, Jack looked across the fire at his team mates. Sam was hunched inside her jacket and had the collar pulled up as far as possible over her ears. Teal'c sat as tall and straight as he usually did, apparently unaffected by the chill. They were a good team. Friends as well as team mates. Any one of them would lay down their life in a second if it meant saving the life of their team mate. They went the distance for one another, and this particular character trait of the SG1 was both looked down upon and revered by the other teams.   
  
What would happen when the doctor joined them in the field? This thought had bothered Jack since he had first been told he now commanded a five man team. Would this Doctor Carter go the distance for them? Or would he tuck tail and run back to the SGC as fast as his legs could carry him? Could he think on his feet or would he be the first captured the next time they encountered the Goa'uld? It was hard enough keeping Daniel out of trouble, but at least Daniel knew the ropes. He was multi-talented. He could talk himself out of a box with no door. But what did Doctor Carter have to offer? His medical expertise? What good would that do them in the middle of a full fledge attack? Well, he could stick the enemy with a hypodermic needle I suppose. Or shock him with the portable defibrillator he'd been issued. Hmm, that might come in handy. To Jack's own dismay, he found himself smiling at the preposterous thought.   
  
"What's so funny Sir?" Ah, leave it to Major Carter to always notice what's going on with everyone else.   
  
"Oh, just wondering what Daniel's doing right now." Good save Jack.  
  
Sam looked at her watch. "2000 hours Sir. He's probably driving the night watch insane searching for coffee." Sam chuckled as she imagined a befuddled Daniel wandering the halls of the SGC, moaning woefully for his lost coffee.  
  
"Yeah, probably Major."  
  
*****  
  
Daniel watched as John gripped the pool cue and skillfully sent the white ball hurtling towards the far side of the table. The ball bounced off the side, knocking the yellow striped ball down the corner pocket before continuing on to gently nudge the black ball into the side pocket. John's face lit up as he won his fourth straight game that night.   
  
"I thought you said you'd played before," John said, turning to Daniel.   
  
"I have. Just not very often, and usually with Jack. He starts making these stupid little noises or makes faces at me to break my concentration. And he likes to buy me a beer before we play. One of the reasons I don't drink that often is because it doesn't take much before I'm tipsy. Jack knows it. I think it would crush his self-esteem if I actually beat him. I usually don't try too hard."  
  
"Oh. Well, I like a good match, so don't hold back for me."  
  
"How'd you get so good anyway?" Daniel asked.  
  
"Well, like I said, I have trouble sleeping sometimes, and at my grandparents' house, I usually just got up and played pool for awhile. Then I'd get hungry, go in the kitchen and make a sandwich, and usually fell asleep slumped over the counter."  
  
"Sounds like me back at the SGC. Only I usually end up slumped over my desk."  
  
"Hmm, maybe we could squeeze a pool table into that apartment of yours?" John suggested, an evil twinkle in his eye.  
  
Daniel laughed as he imagined the look on Jack's face as Daniel sinks the black ball, winning the game.   
  
"It's getting late. Ready to head home?" Daniel turned to John.  
  
"Yeah, sure." Home. It had been a long time since John felt like he truly had a home. Sure, his Gamma had taken him in. But it wasn't 'home'. Not like Kerry's small basement apartment had felt like home. Before Kerry ungraciously asked him to move out. But Daniel wouldn't toss him out onto the street. He'd made it clear that John could stay as long as he wanted, until he was ready to get his own place.   
  
The two men pushed their way through the throngs of people at the small bar they'd found not too far from Daniel's apartment. The place was soothing with dim lights, and soft carpeting. A karaoke system had been set up in one corner and John had listened as various men and women sang the latest country or pop hits. Maybe they could come back tomorrow night and try out their vocal talents. Daniel saw the direction John was looking in and pulled on his arm.  
  
"No way John. . .."  
  
Exhausted, Daniel fumbled with his keys and stumbled into the apartment. "We'll make you a set of keys tomorrow," he promised John.  
  
"No problem."  
  
"I think you're going to have to sleep on the couch tonight though. We'll clean out your bedroom tomorrow. I've sort of been using it as storage. It's mostly junk though. We can throw most of it away."  
  
"Oh, that sounds exciting."  
  
"More exciting than getting up in front of a bar full of strangers and getting booed off stage."  
  
"I'm sure you have a lovely voice Daniel."  
  
"Gee thanks." Daniel handed John a pillow and blanket before slumping down into a large, overstuffed armchair.  
  
"So, why did you become a doctor? You obviously come from a rich family. I would think you'd be in business with your family or something." Daniel looked at John and silently wondered why anyone would turn away from a family, from flesh and blood. Daniel hadn't had that choice. His family had been torn away from him years ago. Surely he never would have turned his back on them if they had lived.  
  
"Yeah, well, they wanted me to join the family business. But I wanted to be a doctor. They finally gave up trying a few years ago."   
  
John closed his eyes and remembered summers of running across the large grounds with his brother and his cousin. Of racing the ponies across the pasture. Of swimming in the pool, hollering 'marco polo' in their loudest voices. Climbing trees and raiding the kitchen when the cook wasn't looking. Then he remembered his brother, lying still and lifeless in his bed after the chemotherapy treatments. Remembered his brother vomiting for hours. No more interest in cookies. No more laps across the pool. Just anger and hurtful words as the treatments failed his ailing brother. The laughter and love replaced by the dark cloud of Leukemia. It was at his brother's funeral, as John shrunk behind his father, away from the distorted features that no longer resembled the boy John had loved so dearly, it was then that John knew what he would do with the rest of his life.   
  
John opened his eyes and looked at Daniel. "My brother died of Leukemia when I was eight. I watched him die after months of useless chemotherapy. He was great. He was older than me and always knew how to make me laugh. He'd let me tag along with him when he went out with his friends. He'd beat up anyone who was stupid enough to pick on me. Then he got sick, and he was the one who would pick on me. He would call me names and pinch me when no one was looking. He was always so angry. I think he was angry because he was sick and I wasn't. I was so mad at everyone. At my parents and the doctors. I thought they weren't trying hard enough to save him. After he died and I looked at him in the casket, I knew. I wasn't going to let this happen to anyone else. No one deserved to go through what he went through. What I went through. So when I went to college, I took pre-med instead of business administration. My parents threatened to cut me off, but they didn't. I think they still hurt from losing my brother, and didn't want to lose me too."  
  
Daniel sat silently, listening to his new roommate's tale. John hadn't turned away from his family. It was because of family, his dying- dead, brother, that John became a doctor. The hurt and pain suffered were a stronger motivating force than angry words could ever be.  
  
"I was six when I watched my parents die under a pile of falling ruins. They were archeologists and were arranging cover stones for display in a museum. A rope broke and they were crushed."  
  
John was surprised when Daniel had started talking, and was even more surprised to hear what the man was saying. Unsure if he should say anything, he sat quietly while Daniel continued.  
  
"They used to take me everywhere with them. I practically grew up in Egypt on their countless digs. I thought it was great. I would play with the Egyptian kids. I knew the Egyptian language better than English. My parents hired locals to help at the sites so they were forced to speak Egyptian as well. But they made sure to talk to me in English when no one was around, so I wouldn't forget how. I even knew a few ancient Egyptian symbols from watching my parents translate them in the pyramids. I used to pretend I was King Tut.   
  
"I remember being so disappointed when they told me we were going back to the states with the cover stones. I hated the states. When we were in the states, it was always at one museum or another and instead of letting me help, like at the dig sites, I was always in the way. So they'd hire a babysitter to keep me busy. I hardly ever saw them when they were working with the museums. The day they died, they'd agreed to let me come and watch them work as long as I promised to be good. I was so afraid that day watching them work under the heavy stones. They seemed too heavy to be held up by the ropes alone. I kept thinking they were going to fall. I couldn't help it, but I kept calling out to them to come and play with me so they'd come out from under the stones. I used to think they died because I disturbed them so much they didn't see the stone swinging. I know now that's not true, but it took me a long time to believe it.   
  
"I went to a foster home after that. I had to go to a public school, but I never fit in with the other kids. I was weird. I liked school. Especially social studies. Nobody likes social studies-I learned that the hard way. I used to get picked on because I knew more than the teacher when it came to ancient history. Who knew kids could be so protective of a teacher? Anyway, the popular kids, the ones who are buddy-buddy with the teacher, didn't like that I would correct the teacher, so they would give me a hard time. Push me in the hallway, or trip me as I walked past their desk. My books would disappear out of my desk and I would get yelled at for losing them. Little stuff.   
  
"The foster home was okay. But it wasn't great. And it didn't last. I guess I didn't bond with them and they chose not to adopt me. So I was sent to another foster home. I guess I lived in five foster homes altogether. Some of them were okay, some weren't. I missed my parents. No one seemed to realize that I had lost the two people who meant everything to me. I don't know what happened to my parents' things. I never got anything when I went to the first foster home. No pictures, nothing. I started to forget what my parents looked like. What their voices sounded like. So I did the only thing I could to preserve their memory. I became a bookworm and read everything I could get my hands on about Egypt. I figured that Egypt was their life. It was how I remembered them. When I went to college, I figured I knew so much about Egypt and the language already, why not major in it? It sort of became an obsession."  
  
Daniel stopped talking and was shocked that he had revealed so much to someone he had known for such a short period of time. Glancing over at John, he saw that John was watching him intently.   
  
"Thank you." Whoa! Where did that come from? Daniel looked over at John in surprise.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For telling me that. For listening to me. For not judging me. It's been a long time since anyone really listened to me. For this," John said, gesturing in the air.  
  
"You're welcome." Daniel stretched and stood up. "I think it's time for bed. We've got a lot to do tomorrow. Cleaning, shopping, Karaoke. . .."  
  
John laughed as Daniel turned off a light and walked towards the bedroom.  
  
"Night John."  
  
"Goodnight Daniel."  
  
*****  
  
The twin suns were high in the sky as SG1 continued their trek towards the damaged MALP. The grassy plains of yesterday had given way to rolling pastures dotted with clumps of trees. The grass was higher as well, hiding protruding tree roots and the occasional hole. Sam stumbled as her foot sank into one of these unseen crevices.  
  
Jack grabbed her elbow to steady her. "Careful Major. There seem to be quite a few potholes here. Watch your step people!" Jack bellowed as he continued on.  
  
The breeze swirled around her and Sam could feel her mind drifting back into her thoughts of childhood. She didn't notice as her path veered slightly off to the left, away from Jack and Teal'c. She also didn't notice the gaping hole that was suddenly in front her, until she had reached its edge and felt her body tilting forward, off balance.  
  
Flinging her arms out, Sam attempted to grab the side of the fissure. She could feel the long blades of grass slicing through her palms as she clawed for a handhold. The soil was soft and crumbled under the pressure. Clumps of dirt and grass showered down around her as Sam's body slammed into the side of the fissure, finally falling to the bottom of the deep hole.   
  
Sam lay where she fell, disoriented in the sudden darkness. The ground was cold and damp beneath her and a layer of dirt covered her tattered body. Sam drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the flying dust. She felt as though she was suffocating as her lungs fought for fresh air. Finally catching her breath, Sam forced her lungs to inhale and exhale slowly and deliberately.   
  
Sam looked up at the top of the hole and had to turn her eyes away as the suns' light filtered down, blinding her. Okay, damage check. I can see and hear. I can breath-that's always a plus. Right hand fingers wiggle-check. Left hand. . .. Sam stared at her left hand in horror as her fingers lay motionless. Okay, okay. Maybe something's broken. Sam attempted to lift her left arm, only succeeding to raise her shoulder slightly off the hard ground. Definitely not good. Stay calm Sam, check your legs. Right foot toes wiggle-check. Left foot-damn! Nothing. Partial paralysis-don't even try to be a hero Sam. Your team needs you in one piece and you can't risk moving if your back is injured. I think it's time I call in the troops.  
  
Sam opened her mouth to call for Jack, but in place of the intended 'Colonel!' Sam was once again plagued by deep coughs. Oh, not a good idea. Don't try that again. Think Sam! Sam slowly pulled her working arm towards her side and groped for her radio. Sam's fingers wrapped around the small box and she could feel several large cracks in the casing. As she lifted it towards her face, Sam could tell it was a lost cause. One last option. Sam reached for her side again and gripped her side-arm. It felt heavy in her hand as she shakily raised it towards the sky and pulled the trigger.   
  
The shot rang out across prairie and Jack instantly dropped to his knees in the high grass, reaching for his weapon. Teal'c was on the ground beside Jack, his staff weapon already charged.   
  
"See anything Teal'c?" Jack asked the large Jaffa as he swept his eyes across the open prairie.   
  
"I see nothing Colonel O'Neill."  
  
"Yeah, me either. That sounded like one of our pistols though." Suddenly Jack's eyes widened and he raised his head enough to get a better look around the grassy sea. Jack flicked on his radio and attempted to reach Sam, but instead received only static. Frustrated, Jack flung the radio down.  
  
"Major Carter!" No response. "Major Carter! Reveal your position!"   
  
Jack waited as his shouts echoed across the terrain. After a few seconds, another shot exploded through the calm. Damn. It was definitely Major Carter doing the shooting. Dammit Jack! How could you be so stupid! You let your team member, one of your own people, out of your site and now she's injured-or worse. Jack's mind began to wander over several less than pleasant possibilities to explain the Major's sudden disappearance.  
  
"Don't worry, we're coming!" Jack angled to his right as Teal'c moved off to the left, brushing aside the grass as they searched. Noticing a patch of flattened grass, Jack hurried over to it. He stopped suddenly at the edge of a rather deep hole hidden amongst the high grass, before he too tumbled in. There, lying at the bottom of the hole lay a battered and bloody Sam.   
  
"Major? You okay?" Dumb Jack-of course she's not okay. Jack peered down at her, concern and fear clearly showing on his face.  
  
"I'm injured Sir. I can move the right half of my body, but my left side is mostly paralyzed." Sam struggled to control her voice, struggled to remain brave. Struggled to retain some semblance of the perfect soldier. She would not cry.   
  
Teal'c had heard the interaction and was now at Jack's side. With Teal'c's help, Jack climbed down into the hole and kneeled next to Sam. Looking around the inside of the hole, Jack deemed it safe and began to inspect the Major's injuries.   
  
"Where does it hurt Major?"  
  
"My back Sir. When I fell, I hit the side of this hole and my body twisted. I landed on my back." While her words were calm and matter of fact, Sam's eyes conveyed the fear she was feeling. Her own words resounded in her head. 'I landed on my back.' Oh God! Please don't let me be paralyzed! Please, don't let my back be broken! How can I be a soldier if I can't move? How can I be a part of SG-1? How can I make my father proud?  
  
Jack looked down at Sam and forced a smile. "You just hang in there while Teal'c and I figure out what to do."  
  
"Yes Sir." Sam was silent as Jack climbed out of the hole and began to talk quietly to Teal'c.   
  
"Colonel O'Neill. We should construct a stretcher and bring Major Carter back to the SGC as quickly as possible."  
  
"I'd love to do that Teal'c, but I don't think we should move her. If her back is broken, we'd risk doing more damage. One of us is going to have to go back to the gate and get help."  
  
"I will go. I am faster than you and will not require rest. I will be there by nightfall." The large man shook off his pack, and began to remove some of its contents.  
  
"What are you doing Teal'c?"  
  
"You will need the food and the sleeping bag for Major Carter. It will be cold tonight and I do not believe that hole is large enough for a fire."   
  
Jack put his hand on Teal'c's arm and looked the large man in the eye, "Thank you Teal'c."  
  
"Worry not Colonel. I will return soon." Teal'c shouldered his pack and set off in the direction they had come.   
  
Jack watched his friend march steadily across the rolling hills until he was out of site. Carefully dropping his pack and then Teal'c's donation into the hole, Jack climbed down after them.   
  
"It'll be alright Major. Help'll be here soon."  
  
*****  
  
"We have to go back to base." Daniel looked down at John who was perched on a bar stool flipping through a song book.   
  
"But I haven't sung yet."  
  
"That page was from General Hammond. He ordered us to return to base."  
  
John looked at Daniel's concerned face. "What's going on?"  
  
"I don't know. I'm afraid something might have happened to *our* team." That was a close one, almost said 'my' team. That would have gone over real well with John. Hell, he's just as much a part of SG1 as I am. It's not his fault the General put him on a three month training regimen before allowing him off-world with the rest of us.  
  
John grabbed his jacket and threw some money on the table. "Let's go."  
  
Finally reaching the base, Daniel and John rushed through the checkpoints until they reached the briefing room. Not bothering to knock, Daniel pushed open the door, almost falling into the room in his haste. Worry turned to fear as he saw Teal'c sitting at the table with General Hammond and Janet.  
  
"What happened?" Daniel looked wide eyed at the three who were gathered around the table.   
  
"Sit down Doctor Jackson, Doctor Carter." The General waited until the two were seated before continuing.  
  
"Teal'c returned through the stargate alone . . ."   
  
Daniel jumped out of his seat, fists clenched, and eyes narrow-poised as if to fight some unseen evil that had harmed his team, his friends.   
  
"Alone? Is Jack hurt? Sam? They're not . . ." Daniel fell silent, at the horrifying possibilities.  
  
"No Doctor Jackson, they're not dead. If you'll just sit down, I'll continue. Apparently, while hiking towards the MALP unit, Major Carter fell into a hole that had been covered by tall grass. The Major is injured and in need of medical assistance. Colonel O'Neill stayed with Major Carter while Teal'c returned to base to retrieve help."  
  
"How badly?" Daniel's voice was quiet, as if vocalizing his fears would make them worse.  
  
"It's serious son. The Major reported paralysis in half of her body. When she fell, she landed on her back. She also complained of pain in her back."  
  
Having sat silently through most of the briefing, John suddenly looked up, the expression on his face intense. "But that's a good thing! She shouldn't be feeling anything if there was irreparable damage to the spinal column."  
  
"Exactly Doctor Carter. That's why you will be returning to P248X484 with Doctor Jackson and Teal'c."  
  
I know I didn't just hear General Hammond tell me that I'm going off-world to retrieve Sam. He must have been talking to Janet. I've only been training a couple of weeks. He wouldn't send me off-world. I'd be a liability. It must be a mistake.  
  
"You can close your mouth now Doctor. You probably think I'm insane, but P248X484 has proven to be one of the safest planets we have visited. Teal'c has assured me that there are no natives to contend with, no large carnivorous animals preying on you. The weather is stable, the terrain is mostly even, until of course you get into the area where the remaining members of your team are waiting. Doctor Frasier is unable to go, as we need her here. I feel that you have received adequate training for this mission, and frankly, your team needs you. I wish I could send another team with you, but they are all either off-world at the moment or down with the flu.  
  
"Janet has put together everything you'll need and it's loaded on a small transport which will go off world with you. Any questions?"  
  
After three "No Sirs," General Hammond dismissed the team with orders to prepare for off-world departure in one hour. After SG1 left the briefing room, General Hammond turned to Janet.  
  
"Please tell me that wasn't the worst mistake of my military career."  
  
Taking the General's hand, Janet replied, "Major Carter has a fighting chance General, and Doctor Carter is one of the most talented doctors I have worked with. He'll bring her home alive General."  
  
"Yes, but will she come home the same way she left?"  
  
"We'll have to wait and see General. Wait and see."  
  
*****  
  
'Chevron 5 locked. Chevron 6 locked. Chevron 7 locked. Prepare for off world departure.'  
  
John stood between Teal'c and Daniel and watched as the stargate sprung to life once again. The awe and wonder he had felt the first time he witnessed the spectacle was gone. Now he felt only a strange mixture of fear intermingled with excitement. He was not prepared for this, yet he knew he was ready.   
  
Daniel and Teal'c began to walk forward, up the ramp and John watched as they approached the stargate with ease. Heck, no big deal. He could do this. Mustering his courage, John slowly walked up the ramp. He looked up at the gate curving above him. He hadn't realized how large it was.   
  
"Good luck SG1. Bring your team home. We'll be waiting." General Hammond stood back and watched as the newest member of the SGC took his first steps through the shimmering vortex.   
  
'Wormhole disengaged in five, four, three, two, one.'  
  



	9. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: ER/ characters are property of nbc, warner bros, constant c, amblin, etc. Stargate SG1/ characters are property of showtime/ viacom, mgm/ua, double secret productions, gekko productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only-no profit involved.  
  
Authors Note: I am so sorry for taking so long with this. I wrote myself in a corner with the whole back injury and had to think myself out. Hope you all enjoy the final product of all that brain exercise. The next part won't take nearly so long so keep an eye out!  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part Nine  
By: Victoria F.  
  
Cold. So cold. I can't move. But I am moving. Something's moving. What's happening? The air is moving-no, no air. What is that? It feels like. . . pins. Like pins and needles. Like I cut the blood flow off from my whole body and now it's rushing back. I can't breath! Why is this taking so long? I think I'm going to be sick. But even my stomach isn't responding. If I could just see something-someone. Daniel? Teal'c? Oh God! Stop! I want to get off! Gotta be there soon. Just hang on John. Piece of cake.   
  
A thousand sensations bombarded him as John's foot touched solid ground. The caress of the night air as it swirled around his chilled body. The gentle rustle of the grass swaying around the stargate prickled his ears. The glow from several moons lit the night sky, casting eerie shadows around the travelers. Sweet scents of flowers and grasses emanated from the dew covered ground.   
  
John teetered on unsteady legs and felt hands gently lower him to the ground. John squeezed his eyes shut and gasped for air. Reaching a hand forward, he felt the smooth surface of stone. His stomach cramped and John doubled over, fighting the urge to vomit. Finally, his stomach quieted and John sat up, running a hand over his face. Wet. Why was he wet? John opened his eyes and cast a cursory look over his outstretched body. Frost. Frost? What the. . .?   
  
"What. . .?" John stammered. John looked around him and realized that he was ensconced between his team mates on a large stone platform. He could feel a hand gently rubbing his back. Safe. He was safe.   
  
"You alright? You were looking pretty green there for a second." Daniel looked at John with concern and John realized that it was Daniel who was rubbing his back.  
  
Teal'c peered at John quizzically. "Daniel Jackson. Doctor Carter did not appear green to me. Perhaps your vision was affected by the trip through the gate."  
  
"It was just a figure of speech Teal'c. I didn't really mean he was green. I just meant he looked sick."  
  
"I concur. Although he does appear unnaturally white."  
  
"Pale. He looks pale," Daniel corrected.  
  
John laughed at the quirky banter going on between his team mates, but stopped as he was hit by a new bout of dizziness, making his stomach churn once more.  
  
"Easy does it. Just sit still for a minute and you'll feel better." Daniel chuckled as he remembered his first trip through the stargate. Just for a second, he'd thought he was dead. Opening his eyes to darkness, his body feeling like it had just come out of deep freeze. But the feeling has quickly wore off, as it would for John. Daniel found it fascinating that after several years of gate travel, he was immune to most of these affects.  
  
John could feel his head clear, but he shivered under the melting layer of frost.   
  
"Ugh! Please tell me it gets easier with time." John staggered to his feet, steadied by the continued support of his new friends.   
  
"Indeed Doctor Carter. Gate travel will prove to be less disconcerting with each trip." Teal'c's face took on a serious expression, "If you are ready, we must begin our journey. The walk is long."   
  
John nodded and adjusted his pack. Three men began the long walk in silence, each absorbed in his own thoughts. John squinted his eyes as he looked around the moonlit world. It looks like Earth. Was this what the world was like before the immense spread of civilization? America before the 'settlers' staked the country as their own? The air was fresh and he inhaled deeply. He would bet it was almost as pure as the bottled oxygen his patients received. There was nothing here to pollute the air, no acid rain, no contaminated rivers. He wondered how long this world would remain untouched now that they had 'discovered' its purity.  
  
As he looked around, it dawned on him that they were utterly alone on this world. Aside from the three of them and Colonel O'Neill and Sam somewhere in the distance, the planet was deserted. The realization would have been terrifying to him at one point in his short life, but now he felt at peace. There was no one here to tell him how to live his life, to look disapprovingly at him for his choice of career or because he one day took one pain pill too many. No one to look at him with sadness hidden behind strained smiles. No one looking over his shoulder, waiting for him to make a mistake. Waiting for him to fail.   
  
John's thoughts drifted back to Chicago. To County General. To the ER. When had everything become so wrong? When he first stepped into the bustling ER seven years ago, he never would have guessed what direction his life was going to take. The adrenaline rush had overwhelmed him at times, as he found himself tripping over his own feet, fainting at the sight of blood, or making a fool of himself time after time. But none of that matter because he was doing what he loved. He was saving lives. He'd felt good about himself and those good feelings extended outwards to his patients.   
  
As a surgical intern, he knew he was capable of becoming a good surgeon-hell, a great surgeon maybe. But as his surgical skills grew, he found himself becoming colder, desensitized to the people who had inspired him to become a doctor in the first place-the patients. Patients like his dead brother once was. He'd quit surgery then; transferred to the ER. Back to medicine. Back to what was important. He knew the disappointment began then, to some extent. Even though he'd succeeded in convincing Dr. Anspaugh to let him transfer specialties, he knew he'd disappointed the head surgeon. John also knew that Dr. Benton, his teacher-his mentor, never fully understood his reasons for leaving surgery either. But none of that mattered. It was the right place.   
  
He was welcomed back to the ER with open arms. He knew that the gangly, awkward boy he had been was rapidly become a competent doctor. Kerry knew. Heck, Mark knew. He'd earned their trust. Secured his place. Even Deb, no, Jing Mei knew she had to work that much harder to keep up with him. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he had gotten too secure. Too comfortable with the success his life was becoming. Maybe it was fate. Somehow, he had escaped from a life filled with disappointments. No, not disappointments-HE was the disappointment. Disappointment to his family. To the Carter legacy. He'd turned away from his heritage, his family. His 'place'.   
  
He took his competency for granted. He couldn't pinpoint when he become so egotistical, but somewhere, with his newfound success, he began to look at others with a critical eye. He's felt threatened by his med student, and instead of praising her for her insight, he'd criticized and belittled her. So maybe it was fate. Stepping in to remind him that he wasn't so great. That what was given could be taken away. His heart ached to remember the price he had paid for his egotism. What hurt worse was knowing that it took Lucy's death for him to see what he had become.   
  
John remembered Deb, sitting there with him in his hospital room, visiting, going over chart reviews. Couldn't she see the monster he had become? How could she be so forgiving? She should have stayed far away from him. But yet she came. Day after day. Even his grandmother, who had been so distant-their relationship strained, had come to see him. Why? He had done nothing to deserve the reprieve. He lived while an innocent life was lost. She'd even taken him in when he found it too hard to be on his own after the brutal attack. His coworkers had welcomed him back to work. Smiled at him. Hugged him.   
  
It was too much. Didn't they know that he couldn't continue the facade any longer? That he was no longer the same man he had been only weeks before? That something else had died in curtain area three that night? It had become a challenge to go to work day after day, pretending that he was the same man. To attack the diseases and injuries with the same zeal which had once come so easily. With each new patient, he saw the hurt, the pain. They were no longer an illness to conquer, adding yet another notch to his belt. They were people. People who hurt. People who looked to him to make that hurt go away. How could he make their hurt go away when he was encompassed by his own hurt?  
  
It had finally become too much. The expectation had become too great. The pain was overwhelming and he couldn't pretend any longer. Nor could he admit that all he had struggled for had been in vain. That he had turned away from his family, a secure future, only to fail. It was then that with a trembling hand, he had shook out more than the prescribed dosage of pain pills and gave in to that which had brought him to this point at the start-pride. Unable, no, unwilling to admit defeat, that perhaps he wasn't as strong as he believed, he began his addiction.   
  
With that addiction came the realization that Lucy really had died in vain. There was no lesson learned. It was pride that killed Lucy and it was pride that pocketed a needle full of fentanyl during a trauma. Yes, he had returned to Chicago after three long months in rehab, but he knew he no longer belonged there. He was not the same man who so carelessly played with innocent lives. But being there, in that place, he couldn't forget. It had become his own personal hell. How do you amend for playing God?  
  
Playing God. The Gao'uld play God. Gods. Enslaving whole races of people to serve them. To mine for Naquada. To act as body guards. Legions of mindless soldiers pitted against defenseless worlds. Over-running them with weapons far more advanced and deadly than they were prepared for. Living on for centuries with the help of a sarcophagus. A sarcophagus holding the same addictive power as the narcotics he had used.   
  
John glanced over at Daniel who was walking briskly, his face slightly flushed. Daniel had experienced that addiction first hand. Had felt the false sense of power that came with the euphoria. John knew, from reading the mission report, that the rest of SG-1 had almost died in the Naquada mines on Shyla's world because Daniel was too entranced by his addiction to convince Shyla to free them. John felt a pang of envy as he thought of the friendship the other four members of SG-1 had that enabled them to overcome the betrayal and loss of trust they must have experienced. Daniel wasn't too afraid to remain at the SGC and hadn't been transferred from his team. He hadn't run away. He had stayed and rebuilt that foundation that tied him to the others. But then again, Daniel hadn't betrayed them until he was in the throes of his addiction. John knew his own betrayal had not been born of his addiction, but of something much darker.   
  
Feeling himself slip into the familiar sensation of despair, John forced his thoughts to turn to the matter at hand. Finding and treating Sam. The movement in her right side could mean several things. Either she was experiencing incomplete paralysis from spinal damage, in which case full recovery would be slim no matter how soon he got to her, or she could have a herniated disk pressing into the spinal cord and she had a chance at full recovery. John prayed silently that it was the latter.   
  
John liked Sam. The thought of her having to leave the team-the SGC because of a spinal cord injury made him curl his hands into fists. Yes, he was grateful to Daniel for extending the hand of friendship and for allowing him to share his apartment. Teal'c had also been welcoming, but appeared very private and didn't speak often. Colonel O'Neill, well, Colonel O'Neill hadn't quite warmed up to him yet. But Sam, Sam had a way about her that was comforting and non-threatening. She hadn't judged him when he told her about the way he had treated Lucy up 'til the moment of her death. While he hadn't told her about his abuse of narcotics, John had the feeling she would have accepted him no matter what. John noticed the rising suns and was awed by the streaks of orange and red that blossomed out across the sky with the dawn. Invigorated by the glow of hope as it danced across the sky, John hurried his pace just a bit and silently encouraged Sam to keep fighting.  
  
*****  
  
Sam shivered and pulled the blanket higher, towards her face. Teal'c had been right. It had gotten very cold during the night, and with no fire it was hard to keep warm. Sam could feel the cold wall of the hole on one side of her, and the warm body of Jack on the other side. He had finally fallen asleep after watching over her throughout the night. Daniel was right, Jack was a mother hen. Sam was rarely on the receiving end of his nursing, but found herself comforted during the night by Jack's soothing words and ministrations.   
  
Still tired after a restless night on the cold ground, Sam yawned and raised a hand to muffle the sound-not wanting to wake Jack. Sam's eyes grew wide as she stared at her hand hovering in front of her face. Her left hand.   
  
"Colonel!"   
  
Jack grumbled in his sleep and flung an arm over his eyes.  
  
"Colonel!" Sam repeated, this time louder and more excited.  
  
Jack slowly opened his eyes and sat up, looking at Sam groggily. "What is it Major?"  
  
"My hand Sir."  
  
"Yes, I know that's your hand. Now put it down and go back to sleep."  
  
"It's my left hand Sir," Sam said. "I can move it."  
  
Jack's eyes grew as wide as Sam's as the meaning of what she was telling him hit home. "Woah! You can move your hand! That's great! Can you move your leg?"  
  
Sam frowned as she concentrated on moving her leg. Under the heavy blankets, a foot moved slowly side to side. Her frown spread into a grin as she realized that she wasn't paralyzed.   
  
"Yes Sir. I can move my leg too." Sam raised her head as she attempted to sit up, but Jack reached out a hand and pushed her head back down.   
  
"No moving major. You just stay there 'till help comes. We don't know what caused the initial paralysis and we're talking about your back here. I'm not going to risk further damage if we don't need to."  
  
"But Colonel. . .."  
  
"No 'buts' Major. No moving and that's an order! Understand?"  
  
"Yes Sir!"   
  
"Now do you think I could get some sleep or are there any other miracles in store for me?"   
  
"No Sir. Sleep sounds good." Sam smiled and closed her eyes. She could move.  
  
*****  
  
Teal'c walked silently along side his companions. It was unusual for his own silence to be matched by the rest of SG-1. While this occasion called for silence, it was unsettling. Teal'c found himself missing Daniel Jackson's idle chatter and excitement and Major Carter's matching enthusiasm towards their missions, as well as Colonel O'Neill's off handed sarcasm. While Teal'c knew that Colonel O'Neill was capable of protecting Major Carter, Teal'c wished that he had been the one to stay and protect her. He owed a great service to this team. They had befriended him, knowing that he had been Apophis' First Prime-personally responsible for much destruction and death. Daniel Jackson had forgiven him his great sin of taking from him his beloved Sha're. Teal'c had not known such respect and trust since his old life on Chulak.   
  
How misguided his people were. Preparing throughout their lives to become servants to Apophis. Willing to lay down their lives for such evil. A traitor in the eyes of his people, Teal'c was proud to stand with these Tau'ri and fight the Gao'uld. No more innocent lives would be lost by his hand. Teal'c admired the courage the Tau'ri showed by going through the stargate and battling the Gao'uld. It was no secret that the Tau'ri were nearly defenseless against the great power of Gao'uld weapons, yet they continued on in the fight. Determined to right an age old injustice dating back to the beginning of the Tau'ri when Ra first transplanted some of Earth's inhabitants onto other worlds. They had defeated Ra on Abydos, thus sparking their legendary rise as key adversaries of the Gao'uld. Continuing on to defeat Hathor, Apophis, and Seth, amongst others.   
  
Teal'c found himself admiring those traits of the Tau'ri that were looked down upon by the Gao'uld. Friendship, faithfulness, courage, trust, compassion, forgiveness. It was true that not all Tau'ri shared these values, but at the SGC where the fate of the Earth was determined day by day, these values were essential.   
  
Sweeping his gaze across the prairie, Teal'c spotted the place where they had camped the first night on this planet. The place where Colonel O'Neill had shared yet another of Earth's rituals with him. That of cooking a 'marsh mallow'. A small, white lump of sugar which expanded as it was heated and browned around the outside. Teal'c had tasted nothing like it as it crunched under his teeth, then melted to nothing. They had nothing like it Chulak. When the time came and he was welcomed home again, he would share this ritual. Teal'c's gaze brushed over Daniel Jackson and Doctor Carter and he noticed that both men were sweating under the rising suns, and Doctor Carter seemed to be favoring his left leg. Had he been injured? Seeing that neither man would call for a rest, but noting that both were in need of one, Teal'c raised his hand.  
  
"We must rest." With that statement, Teal'c lowered himself to the ground leaving no room for objection from his team mates. John slowly lowered himself to the ground, wincing slightly at the dull pain radiating down his back and into his leg. Daniel removed his pack and collapsed along side of him.   
  
"How much further Teal'c?" Daniel asked, as he pulled a cold MRE from his pack.   
  
"We are nearing the place where the terrain becomes unstable. We will reach Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter by nightfall."  
  
John fumbled with his pack, finally succeeding in removing it from his back. He too removed an MRE, but held it in his hands, unsure how to open it. Daniel took it out of his hands and opened it, handing it back to John with a smile.   
  
"Forgot this is your first time out. So, what do you think?"  
  
"It's peaceful. It looks so much like Earth, it's easy to forget I'm not there. Until I look up that is," John said, pointing towards the two suns.   
  
"Doctor Carter, did you injure yourself during the journey?"  
  
John looked at Teal'c, confused by the question. "No, why?"  
  
"I noticed that you were having difficulty walking."  
  
"Oh. No. I have an old injury that's acting up from the walk. It's nothing."  
  
"Perhaps you should take something to relieve the discomfort."  
  
"No, I'll be fine. I'll just rest a bit." John rubbed his back with his hands and leaned forward in a stretch. The daily exercise John got from the self-defense lessons had alleviated much of John's pain from his sciatica, but he wasn't used to this amount of exertion and his body was rebelling against it.   
  
Teal'c watched as his two young friends rested. He did not need the rest as his companions did, but they did not have the benefit of a symbiote to give them strength. He would let them rest and gather their strength before continuing the long journey.   
  
*****  
  
"Colonel, I'm fine. I don't need to rest. If anything, I want to stretch. I want to get up and walk around. But as we both know, I can't do that, so I'll have to settle for conversation."  
  
Jack relented, knowing he was not going to convince Sam to go back to sleep. Sure, she'd slept most of the night, while he was awake and at her side. Now he was feeling the effects of sleeplessness and Sam wanted to talk. Slumping against the wall of the pit, Jack closed his eyes. Maybe she wouldn't notice. . ..  
  
"Okay Major. What should we talk about?"  
  
"Well, Thanksgiving is only a couple of days away. Do you have any plans?"  
  
Jack sighed as Sam hit on the one topic of conversation he had hoped to avoid. "Well, since you and Jacob will be going to see your brother, Daniel, Teal'c and I were going to make it a men's night. You know, pizza, beer, watch the game."  
  
"Well, that sounds fun."  
  
"Hardly, but thanks for pretending. Teal'c still doesn't understand football and Daniel doesn't want to."  
  
"Oh. Well, maybe you could do something else. Poker? Teal'c would have a great poker face. Or watch a movie?"  
  
"That's blasphemy Major. Thanksgiving and football go hand in hand."  
  
"So what do you suppose John's plans are?"  
  
"I don't know what Doctor Carter's plans are Major. Perhaps you should ask him. I would assume he'll be flying home to be with his family."  
  
"I don't know Sir. He hasn't spoken about his family since he arrived at the SGC."  
  
Jack's eyes narrowed a bit at this piece of information, but he remained silent. Now why wouldn't the doctor have mentioned his family to Sam? Jack knew they had gotten to be friends over the last month and he would have suspected they would have swapped family tales by now. Jack cringed a bit knowing that as commander of this team, he should know what's John's plans were. As it was, he knew little to nothing about the doctor and he definitely didn't know anything about the man's family. He flushed as he remembered the doctor asking him what his Thanksgiving plans were, and his flippant answer in return. Jack had never asked the doctor and the doctor hadn't volunteered the information about himself. Maybe it was because he didn't have any plans.   
  
Stupid Jack! Stupid! So you don't trust him. But he hasn't done anything to make you doubt his commitment to this team. On the contrary, he's worked his butt off learning everything Sam and Daniel have been shoving at him, as well as putting in more than adequate time with you and Teal'c. Sam and Daniel-hell, even Teal'c seem to trust him. Like him even. He was probably fishing for an invitation to come over on Thanksgiving. It's not like I've kept my little get-together a secret. Jeez, I think I even invited mentioned it to Janet in the infirmary. And yes, John was there. He probably heard the whole conversation.   
  
"Colonel?"   
  
Jack's thoughts were broken by Sam's voice. "Yeah Major?"  
  
"Could you throw the extra blanket over me? It's starting to get cold again."  
  
Jack looked up and saw that the sky was dimming-sunset. Hopefully help would be here soon. Jack threw the blanket over his second in command and settled back down to wait. The wait was short because soon he could hear voices growing louder as they approached.   
  
"Heads up Carter! The cavalry has arrived." Jack scrambled out of the hole and squinted to see which SG team had come to the rescue. Jack began to frown as he realized just who had come to help. SG-1. Where was the backup? There should be at least another team to help transport the Major. Then he noticed that SG-1 included the doctor. And he was limping. For that matter, Daniel didn't look so hot himself.   
  
Jack stepped back to the hole and called down, "It's SG-1 Major."  
  
"Oh." Sam cringed as the word came out of her mouth. She didn't mean to sound disappointed, but she was hoping for a full rescue team. It wasn't that she doubted her team's ability to get her out of the hole and back home, but she was hoping for a field medic, or even Janet.  
  
Jack turned back to his approaching team. "This it?"  
  
Daniel saw the look on Jack's face and felt himself tense. He wasn't quite over Jack's lunch scene when John had first arrived. Jack could go to hell if he couldn't trust them with Sam's life.   
  
"Sorry to disappoint you Jack, but we're it." Daniel's voice was thick with sarcasm. He was tired and wasn't in the mood for an encounter with Jack-the high and mighty.   
  
Jack caught the sarcasm and winced, knowing that he deserved it. He knew his team would do everything in their power to help Sam. He didn't know why he was being an ass. Maybe it was from being bottled up in the hole for so long.  
  
John stepped forward as he removed his pack. He grabbed another bag off the mobile unit and walked towards the hole. Leaning over the edge, he shined a light down and surveyed the area. His light flashed over Sam and he saw her close her eyes against the light.  
  
"Hey Sam, how're you doing?"  
  
"John! Thank God! I was afraid I'd have to wait to get back to base to see you or Janet. I've got movement back in my left side, but I haven't been moving."  
  
"That's great Sam. I'll be right down." John turned to the others. "Someone want to help me down or do I have to jump?"  
  
Teal'c stepped forward and eased John down into the hole, lowering the medical bag down after him. At the bottom of the hole, John kneeled next to Sam. Jack was about to climb back down when John stopped him.  
  
"Wait up there Colonel! I'll need the room to examine the Major!" John turned back to his patient. "How are you really doing Sam?" John asked softly, his brown eyes now full of concern.  
  
Sam smiled weakly, again putting on a brave front, but it crumbled under the understanding gaze of her new friend. She could feel her eyes fill with the tears she had fought so hard to control, and felt as one slipped out and trailed down her dirty cheek.   
  
"I'm scared. I was so afraid that I would never walk again. That I would be forced to resign from the SGC or be stuck at a desk the rest of my life. When I woke up today and could move my arm, I was so happy. I am going to be okay, aren't I?"  
  
"I don't know Sam. Let me check you out and then ask me that again-okay?"  
  
Taking out a blood pressure cuff, he wrapped it around her arm. After marking down all of her vitals, they went through the process of assessing if her extremities had feeling and movement. Relieved that Sam now had feeling in her arm and leg, John smiled encouragingly.   
  
"It's looking good Sam. Based on the fact that you now have movement and feeling in all of your extremities, I believe that you suffered a herniated disk when you fell."  
  
"A herniated disk? Is that bad?"  
  
"Well, any damage done to your back is bad, but this is treatable. We all have intervertebral disks between our vertebrae in our backs. It's a sort of cushion, or protection for the vertebrae and allows us to move our backs without damaging our spinal cords. These disks can be damaged either through disease, or age, or by an injury such as yours. These disks have sort of an elastic core surrounded by a thicker outer membrane. When the disk is damaged, the pressure can cause the inner material to bulge out-you've heard of a hernia haven't you?" John asked.  
  
Sam nodded, understanding the analogy.  
  
"Okay, well, this is kind of the same thing. Only the bulge at the side of the disk can put pressure on the spinal cord or other nerves causing weakness or numbness such as you experienced. Did the Colonel give you any drugs after the accident?"  
  
Sam nodded. "He gave me a shot, but I don't know what it was."  
  
John reached into the medical bag and pulled out an immobilizer. "This is to keep you still since we still don't know where the damage is. We won't know that until we get you back to base for an MRI." After fastening it around Sam's neck, John stood and looked up.  
  
"Colonel!"  
  
Jack's head quickly appeared at the rim of the hole. "Yeah?"  
  
"What shot did you give Sam?"  
  
"Uh, methyl something. It was in the medkit clearly labeled 'to be given within the first eight hours of a back injury'. What was it?"  
  
"Methylprednisolone. It's a steroid used to hinder further injury from swelling or bleeding. That's probably why she can move now." Turning back to Sam, he leaned down and pulled out a syringe.  
  
"Okay, I'm going to give you another injection of the Methylprednisolone and some Ibuprofen, then we'll get you out of here." John gently injected the steroid into Sam's arm. "One last thing." John ripped open a small packet and pulled out an antibacterial wipe. He began to wipe her tear smudged face, removing all signs of the tears she had shed.   
  
"Ready!"  
  
After rolling Sam onto a backboard and securing her in place, the team strapped the board to a harness and lifted her out of the hole. Jack kneeled down next to Sam and smiled at her.  
  
"Hanging in there Major?"  
  
"Yes Sir."   
  
Jack looked down at Sam, then at the rest of his team. Daniel was slumped down on the other side of Sam, his exhaustion apparent. John was standing a few feet away, rubbing at his back. Teal'c was standing nearby, ready for whatever course of action Jack ordered next.  
  
"Okay people. Let's set up camp. We'll get a good night's sleep and high tail it out of here in the morning."  
  
Jack watched as his team set into motion, and soon they were settled around a roaring fire, amidst the protection of their tents.   
  
"So, Daniel, what was this project that the General had you working on?" Jack turned to Daniel.  
  
"Oh, just some translations on some artifacts one of the other teams brought back with them. Turns out they were just a bunch of squiggly lines."  
  
"So, didn't have much fun huh?"  
  
"Well, I didn't say that. Actually, John and I have had quite a good time while you guys were out here gallivanting all over the prairie."  
  
"Oh. I see. So John, what have you and Daniel been up to?" Jack turned to John, trying to include the younger man, while little green monsters danced in front of his eyes.   
  
"Uh, just some apartment hunting, shopping, and a little pool."  
  
Sam's attention was peaked. "Apartment hunting? You're finally moving off base?"  
  
"Moved actually-yesterday."  
  
"I guess we have a little house warming party coming up then. Maybe you could invite your family to see the new place?" After her earlier conversation with Jack, Sam was curious about John's family.  
  
"Maybe. If I can get a hold of them. I haven't been able to reach them yet."  
  
"Oh." Way to go Sam. Bring up a sore subject. "So, where did you move?"  
  
Daniel sat up and answered that question. "My apartment. I could use the company and I asked John to move in. I don't exactly need all that extra space."  
  
Jack laughed. "What are you talking about Daniel? You've got stuff tucked into every possible corner of that place."  
  
Daniel glared at Jack. "Junk Jack. I threw it out. There's plenty of space."   
  
Jack quickly turned to John. "So, doc, wanna explain that limp?"  
  
John sighed as ripples of pain still shimmered down his leg. "Sciatica."  
  
"Sciatica," Jack repeated. "Okay, so what is sciatica?"  
  
"Basically it's pain in my sciatic nerve. Down my back into my leg. It only flares up when I really push it too hard."  
  
"Like walking all night and day without much of a break," Jack responded. Guess that answers my question about him running back to base when things get tough. The kid was in obvious pain, but hadn't said a word about it. Not one peep.   
  
"How did you get this sciatica?"  
  
John fidgeted. He really didn't want to tell the whole story. "I had surgery last year and there's some scar tissue built up that's pressing on the nerve. It hasn't bothered me much lately, especially with the workouts I've been getting at the SGC. But I know it if I overdo it. And apparently walking close to twenty hours with no sleep is overdoing it."  
  
"Well for crying out loud, will you take something for it? My back hurts just looking at you." Jack pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen and threw it to John.   
  
Unable to stand the pain any longer, John shook out two pills and swallowed them. "Thanks," he said, tucking the bottle into his pack. "I think I'll turn in." Having already been told he would not be taking watch, he climbed into his tent and collapsed onto his sleeping bag.   
  
Exhausted, John fell asleep right away. The pain in his back still throbbed, and John began to dream a familiar dream. A dark room, a valentine, loud, vibrating music. A sudden, piercing pain in his back. Then Lucy, lying on the floor in a blossom of chrimson. Oh God! No!   
  
John snapped awake. He was sweating and could feel his body shaking. He hadn't had a dream that intense in months. Unable to go back to sleep, afraid the dream would come again, John stumbled out of his tent. He could see Jack sitting by the fire and taking a deep breath, walked over to join him.  
  
"Please tell me there's still coffee," he mumbled.  
  
"Just made a fresh pot. Help yourself." Jack lounged back, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. But he was still trembling slightly from his own fear from hearing the tortured scream only moments before. He'd thought it was Daniel having another dream about Sha're, but when he got close to Daniel's tent, he realized that Daniel was sound asleep. Not sure how the doctor would react to being awakened from an obvious nightmare, Jack had made a fresh pot of coffee instead. If the doctor was anything like Daniel, he'd come stumbling out of his tent any moment now. Sure enough, John was right on cue.  
  
"So, who's Lucy?"  
  
John's head snapped up and he looked at Jack with wide eyes. "What?" he spluttered through a mouthful of hot coffee.  
  
"Lucy. I heard you call out her name. Old girlfriend?" Come on doc, I'm offering you a chance to make up some little excuse like a lost love, so we can both go back to relaxing. I'm not stupid. I know that something terrible must have happened. But you don't have to tell me. Just make something up. Please.  
  
John looked down at the coffee in his hands. Lucy. Why was he dreaming about Lucy now? "Lucy is, er, was my med student back in Chicago. She died."  
  
Jack looked at John. The younger man was looking down, refusing to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. How'd she die?" Come on Jack, you really don't want to know. Do you?  
  
"Mmn, she was attacked by a patient. Stabbed. She made it through surgery, but her injuries were too severe and she died."   
  
"Oh. Were you good friends?"  
  
John was silent. Good friends? "No, we weren't."  
  
"So, why were you dreaming about her?"  
  
Why am I telling him this? Just make something up John and go to bed. You don't want to talk about this.   
  
"It's my fault she'd dead. She tried to tell me that she thought the guy was schizophrenic and I brushed her off. Left her alone with him. Didn't even notice she wasn't around until it was too late."  
  
"So, you found her?"  
  
"In a round about way. I couldn't help her though." John could feel his face flush with guilt over the memories that were surging through his brain.  
  
"Why not?" Jack was genuinely curious at this point and suspected that there was more to the story than what John told.   
  
"When I walked in the room, it was dark, and I couldn't see," John paused and took a deep breath. "He was still there."  
  
"Oh." Yeah 'oh'. Duh Jack! You're a smart man. You should have been able to put two and two together before now. Surgery. Back pain. He as much as admitted he was attacked too.   
  
"He stabbed you in the back and you didn't even see it coming. I'm sorry."  
  
"Yeah, I am too. I don't know I'm even thinking about this now. It's been almost a year. I thought I was past the dreams." John hugged his legs and stared at the fire.   
  
"We all have things we regret. The occasional nightmare. Sooner or later we all find ourselves out here at the fire." Jack poked at the burning logs. "Is that all there is to the story?"  
  
"Well, let's just say I didn't deal well with what happened. Everyone thought I was fine-probably because that's what I told them. But the guilt was too much. I knew I screwed up. Lucy was dead and it was my fault. No one would come out and say it, but I knew. I was still in pain, I could see Lucy every time I closed my eyes. I couldn't go on like that anymore.   
  
"I had a cousin who overdosed on heroine. He can barely function now. I should have known better. But I did it anyway. I took too many pain meds to kill the guilt. All the feelings. I stole drugs from the ER. I finally got caught by another med student who saw me with a needle sticking out of my wrist. Pretty stupid, I know.   
  
"I spent three months is rehab. Either that or lose my job. I did it. Went back to Chicago. But I wasn't happy. I didn't know who I was anymore. I was going through the motions, but I didn't belong there. I stayed clean. I did my job. But when Janet's letter came, I was so relieved. I finally had a way out. A chance to start over."  
  
John stopped talking and looked at Jack. "You probably want me off your team now. I don't blame you. You didn't know what you were getting."  
  
"I hope you're not presuming to know what I'm thinking doctor," Jack responded.  
  
"No Sir. Of course not. It's just, I don't know if I'd want me on my team if I were you."  
  
"I'll let you know if I'm not happy with you. In the meantime, you just keep on doctoring, and I'll keep on leading this team. But, I expect that when you are in pain, or are injured, that you will say something. I don't like martyrs. Got it? It's bad enough Daniel likes to suffer in silence-you're a doctor, you should know better."  
  
"Yes Sir."  
  
"Good. Now that we've got that settled, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"  
  
TBA   



	10. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: ER/ characters are property of nbc, warner bros, constant c, amblin, etc. Stargate SG1/ characters are property of showtime/ viacom, mgm/ua, double secret productions, gekko productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only-no profit involved.  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part Ten  
By: Victoria F.  
  
Oh, my head. I think my eyes are about to explode. Not to mention my ears-where'd all the cotton come from? Where are those tissues? I know I had them here last night. Come on Daniel, before you have a water fall running down your face. Oh, disgusting analogy Daniel. Why did I forget to take an antihistamine last night?  
  
Daniel fumbled with the sleeping bag and other various items scattered about his tent before uncovering a smashed box of tissues. Sighing with relief, Daniel snatched a tissue out and blew his nose. Crumpling up the used tissue and throwing into a small trash bag, Daniel could still feel a steady trickle running down his face. Grabbing another tissue, he dabbed at the trickle and pulled the tissue back, staring at it through blurry eyes. Oh great, a nose bleed. Serves you right for being so stupid. What were you thinking going to bed without getting an antihistamine? Cripes, you're on a planet surrounded by miles of grass and flowers.   
  
Daniel retrieved his glasses from their nest inside one of his boots and put them on. Might as well get up now. Shivering a bit in the morning air, Daniel pulled on his fatigues and jammed his feet into his boots. Alternating between holding the tissue to his nose and tying his laces, Daniel finally stood and pulled on his jacket. He grabbed the tissue box and a bottle of his blessed allergy relieving drugs and exited the tent.   
  
He looked around with awe at the hazy field surrounding them, and the shimmer of the rising sun on the dew wet grass. Beautiful. It wasn't a scene Daniel was used to witnessing. His early years in Egypt followed by his short stay on Abydos were filled with sand covered dunes, not. . . this. Daniel was relieved to see that the fire had been rekindled and walked towards its inviting warmth. Looking around he spotted last night's cups, now clean, in a pile near the fire. Grabbing a cup, he poured himself some coffee and looked around for something dry to sit on.   
  
"Good morning Daniel."   
  
Daniel jumped a bit at the unexpected greeting, and turned around to see Jack standing there with his sleeping bag.   
  
"Thought you might need something to sit on." Jack looked at Daniel's face and his eyes widened with concern. "You okay? Got some blood on your cheek."  
  
Daniel wiped at his cheek with his sleeve and shrugged. "Bloody nose. Happens sometimes with my allergies. No big deal." He reached for the rumpled bag and spread it on the ground near the fire. Gesturing at the bag he sat down. "Have a seat."  
  
Jack poured some coffee into another cup and sat down next to Daniel. He watched as Daniel opened a small orange bottle and shook out a pill. The younger man tossed it into his mouth, washing it down with a drink of his coffee.   
  
"Why didn't you wake me to take watch?"  
  
"I figured you needed your beauty rest after that walk. You don't get sarcastic like that when you're bright and chipper," Jack said, remembering the way Daniel had snapped at him the night before. "Besides, I've been doing nothing for the past two days except sit around and nap. Teal'c and I decided to let you sleep."  
  
"Thanks." Daniel looked down at his hands. "I'm sorry. For snapping at you like that. I was worried about Sam. And. . . things have been kind of tense lately, you know?"  
  
Yeah, I know. And I'm the reason. The last thing I wanted was to lose that special-whatever it is we seem to have. And I mucked it up with jealousy and stupid suspicions. I've been the one driving a wedge into this team, not the doc.  
  
Rather than voice his thoughts, Jack took his turn looking down at his hands. "I guess that would be my fault. I've been acting like a jerk."  
  
"Yeah, you have."  
  
Jack's head snapped up. "Hey!"  
  
"What? I'm only agreeing with you." Daniel sniggered as he took another drink of his coffee. "So where's Teal'c?"  
  
Jack cocked his head in the direction of one of the tents. "He's doing his kelnu-something thingy."  
  
"That's Kel-No-Reem Jack. And John?"  
  
Jack waved at Sam's tent. "In there with Sam." This time Jack sniggered as Daniel looked at him confused.   
  
"He went to check on her last night and they were talking for awhile. Then it just got quiet. I went to check on them and found them both sleeping like babies. The doc was just too darn cute to wake up so I left him there." Jack grinned wickedly. "I think it's time for sleeping beauty to wake up, don't you?"  
  
Daniel followed Jack to Sam's tent and waited while Jack quietly unzipped the door.   
  
"Oh, would you look at that? They look like they were having a sleep-over or something." Jack tried to hide his grin as he noted an opened MRE on the floor of the tent, next to two coffee cups. John was sprawled out on the ground next to Sam, his hair sticking out awkwardly around his face.   
  
"Good morning campers!" Jack laughed as Sam's eyes flew open. John, however, remained motionless on the ground. Jack nudged him with his foot. "Rise and shine doc."  
  
John grumbled something and slowly opened his eyes. Yawning, he stretched and sat up. "I'm up, I'm up." Looking at Sam he said, "Let me get your vitals again, and we'll take care of some other things too." He turned to Jack and Daniel. "Give us a few minutes."  
  
Jack raised his eyebrows, realizing just what those 'other things' probably were. "Gotcha. We'll be out here." Jack and Daniel shuffled back to the fire and started to get breakfast ready. Several minutes later, John emerged from the tent. It wasn't long before breakfast was had and the gear was packed up. The long trek back to the stargate had begun.   
  
*****  
  
John looked around the wide prairie and was happy to notice that they were past the half way marker. The suns were high in the sky, but the air was cooler today and the team was making good time. It was a nice planet and John wished that he were there under better circumstances. One thing had been nagging at him though and he couldn't contain his curiosity any longer.  
  
"Has any one else noticed that there are no animals on this planet? No birds? I don't even think I saw any bugs back there at the camp site. Is that normal? I mean, what kind of ecosystem would a planet have without animals?"  
  
Teal'c raised his eyebrows. "What is an ecosystem?"  
  
Sam answered his question from her perch on top of the small transport. "It's a cycle of life Teal'c. Animals inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide. The plants need the carbon dioxide to survive, and in turn produce oxygen. But, it's more complicated than that. Um, someone want to help me out here? Ecology isn't really my field of expertise."  
  
"I'll take a stab at it major," Jack said. "It's like this Teal'c. Uh, bugs eat plants. Well, some do. Some eat dead animals. Anyway, small animals eat bugs-so do birds. Larger animals eat the smaller animals, and some eat plants. It kind of goes on like this. The animals die, the plants die, and they, uh, decompose. What's left goes back into the ground-feeding it, uh, providing nutrients that help the plants grow. It's a cycle, like the Major said. The animals need the plants to survive, and vice versa."  
  
"I understand. Thank you. I find myself intrigued as well then at the absence of animals on this planet," Teal'c responded.   
  
"We'll have to send another unit back to retrieve the MALP and find out what's going on here. What caused the MALP to short circuit. Maybe do a wider sweep for signs of animal life. There must be animals on this planet somewhere."  
  
"I agree Major, but first things first. Getting you back to base and safely in the infirmary is our top priority." Jack patted Sam's arm as he walked next to her.   
  
Several more hours passed and the suns were slowly sinking in the sky when Jack raised his hand and called for a halt.  
  
"Is anyone else feeling anything-odd?" he queried.  
  
"You mean, like a tingling sensation like static electricity?" Daniel ran his hands through his hair, as if expecting that it was standing on end.   
  
"Yeah. Like that. Let's get some readings people, this isn't right." Jack waited while Teal'c did a sweep of the area.   
  
"Radiation levels are normal. However, there is a low level electrical field surrounding us. It appears to be gaining in strength."  
  
"Jack, what's going on? My head is starting to feel like it's about to explode." Daniel stumbled and raised his hands to his head. Jack took a step towards him before he too felt pain explode in his head. Falling to his knees, he called out:  
  
"Doc?"  
  
"I don't know what it is Colonel. But it feels like I just stuck my finger in a light socket!" John groaned as his head pulsed and his body tingled with raw electricity. The world darkened around him as he collapsed to the ground.   
  
John's head swam as he slowly became aware of voices, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. He blinked his eyes and attempted to sit up. Bad idea. The world swam in front of him and his stomach did a flip flop. Rolling onto his side, he vomited the remains of his last MRE. Gasping for breath, he struggled to stop the dry heaves which had continued after all his stomach's contents had been emptied.   
  
"Easy there doc." Jack knelt down beside him and lifted a bottle to his lips. Water. John spit out a mouthful, grateful to be rid of the taste of vomit that still lingered. John tried to stand, but Jack held him down.  
  
"Don't try to get up yet. I think we were electrocuted. We all took a pretty good shock."  
  
"Is everyone okay?" John asked, looking around. He was relieved to see Teal'c helping Sam drink some water, and Daniel sitting up against the transport.   
  
"Yeah, we're all in one piece. As soon as these tremors stop, we need to get the heck out of dodge. I don't know what that was, but Teal'c thinks it originated from the direction of the stargate."  
  
"Could it have come from the stargate itself? Some sort of short circuit?" John held his hand in front of his face and watched as it shook visibly.  
  
"It's possible. But we're a long ways off from the gate. I don't know. I think there's something else going on here. Whatever just hit us was probably what knocked the MALP for a loop." Jack slumped down next to John and leaned back. "I'm just going to rest for a minute."  
  
After everyone was able to stand on their own two feet, the team began to hike back towards the stargate. Soon, they could see the stargate looming in the distance.   
  
"We're almost home folks. Just a little ways more to go!" Jack called out, relieved to see that they were close to the stargate and hadn't experienced any further electrical fields.   
  
Damn, spoke too soon. Jack watched, stunned as the stargate flashed in the distance and several dark objects flew out.  
  
"Hit the deck people! We've got company!" Jack threw himself to the ground and pulled out a pair of field glasses. One of the flying objects was heading their way. It didn't look big enough to be a ship. Smoke started to pour out of it, leaving a trail of fog in its wake. It reminded Jack of. . .damn! Crop dusters!   
  
"Gas masks people!" Jack darted for the transport. Too late. The small object had flown over before they could get the masks out and dust was settling around them. Jack began to sneeze.   
  
"What was that?" John asked, sniffling. His eyes were red and he too began to sneeze.   
  
"Weed killer? Fertilizer? I don't know, but they were dropping it on the field." Jack surveyed his team. They were all covered in a fine coating of a yellowish powder. They were all sneezing, except for-Daniel. Jack walked over to Daniel.  
  
"Any idea why you're the only one not sneezing here? I can barely breath-my nose is all stuffed up. No offense, but this is usually your territory." Jack rubbed his eyes and began to brush the dust off.  
  
Daniel shrugged, bewildered. "I don't know Jack."  
  
John stepped forward and pulled out a handkerchief. He blew his nose loudly and shoved the cloth into his pocket. "I think I know why. We're all exhibiting signs of an allergy attack. Maybe Daniel's not because he took an antihistamine. If this stuff is affecting us like any other allergen-pollen, mold, dander-than the antihistamine Daniel took would be blocking the effects."  
  
Jack coughed and looked at John. "Okay, so give us an antihistamine and let's go home."  
  
"Sorry Colonel. It's too late for that. We've already breathed this stuff in and our bodies have already released histamines, which is what's causing the sneezing and itchy eyes and all. We just have to wait for it to wear off."  
  
"Great. Daniel, remind me never to tease you about your allergies again. This is terrible. Okay, let's keep moving then people. I want to get to a nice hot shower and wash this stuff off."  
  
As they neared the gate, John could hear Sam's breathing become strained. "Stop!" John took her vitals again and found her blood pressure to be high and her lungs were straining to take in oxygen. "I need to give her oxygen!" John fumbled for the small oxygen tank and strapped a clear mask over Sam's mouth and nose. He could feel his own lungs straining for air and turned to look at the others. Jack was hunched over, his face pale. Teal'c appeared to be having difficulty as well. What was going on?  
  
"Anaphylactic shock!"  
  
"What?" Jack gasped.  
  
John could feel searing pain as his lungs worked to take in precious air. He was dizzy, and wobbled a bit as he yanked open the med kit. Damn! Only three syringes of epinephrine. He yanked one out and quickly injected it into Sam's arm. She was already weak from the accident and he didn't want to risk her recovery by starving her body of oxygen Teal'c was next. John looked at the last syringe. He knew he wasn't strong enough to help lift Sam up the stone platform to the stargate, or to carry Jack if he passed out. He made his decision and stumbled over to Jack, injecting the last syringe into his arm. He waited as the others began to breath more evenly.   
  
Jack felt the needle sink into his arm and soon felt the pressure in his lungs begin to alleviate. His head cleared as his breaths became stronger. Way to go doc! Wait a minute, doc. You're not looking so good there.   
  
"You okay doc?"  
  
John shook his head and gasped, "Only three shots. Gotta get back to base before. . .."   
  
Before he could finish his sentence, Jack was on his feet, pulling John up. "Let's go people!"  
  
With Jack and Teal'c supporting him on either side, John stumbled towards the stargate. He hadn't felt this much pain since his attack. His mind began to drift and for a moment he thought Doctor Kovac was there, as he had been in the trauma room so long ago. John looked at Teal'c and saw instead the concerned face of Donald Anspaugh. He could hear his encouraging words in his head, "Hang in there Doctor Carter, we'll get you through this."  
  
Teal'c grasped the doctor's arm and supported the man as they made their way closer to the stargate. He was impressed with his new team-mate who had shown much courage by selecting himself to be deprived of the drug that had revived his team-mates. His choice was correct. He was the weakest and would not have been as able to carry Major Carter or anyone else through the stargate.   
  
Teal'c grasped John more firmly and said, "Do not worry Doctor Carter, we will be through the gate soon."   
  
As they neared the gate, John's body went limp between them. Teal'c lifted him in his arms and began to stride toward the stargate. Jack and Daniel grasped the ends of Sam's stretcher and followed. Teal'c had activated the stargate and had gone through before them. As they stepped out of the shimmering pool, they could see Janet's team already working over John's lifeless body. As medics relieved him of the stretcher, Jack heard the words that he had come to dread.  
  
"He's in V-fib!"  



	11. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: ER/ characters are property of nbc, warner bros, constant c, amblin, etc. Stargate SG1/ characters are property of showtime/ viacom, mgm/ua, double secret productions, gekko productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only-no profit involved.  
  
*Author's note: Okay, kind of cheesy and a bit early for the season, but. . . Happy Thanksgiving!  
  
Something Old, Something New   
Part Eleven  
By: Victoria F.  
  
V-fib. Cyanotic. Pulse ox. Sinus rhythm. Anaphylactic shock. What the hell have I done? You sent that boy where he had no business being. He wasn't ready. You knew he wasn't ready. Why? Why did you do it? Because it was convenient? Because he was here? What if he wasn't here? You would have found somebody else to go out there. You didn't have to send him. Damnit! He's only been on base for a month. Barely has the basics down. You should have known something was wrong with that planet. MALPs don't just drive over cliffs. It just doesn't happen. I don't care how peaceful that planet appeared. Too peaceful. Why didn't I catch that?   
  
Colonel O'Neill blames himself. I could see it on his face the minute he stumbled through the gate. Not just one, but two down on his watch. Going to give himself some major bruises over that. Never mind the fact that he not only took a pretty major jolt of electricity out there, but almost ended up in the same position as the doctor. Hell, that won't register with his guiltometer. The fact that he's lying in the infirmary with the rest of SG1 being pumped full drugs and hooked up to machines won't be doing him any good either. Can't check on his people when he's flat on his back.   
  
I don't know how they do it. He's one of them. One mission. One. That's all it took. There's no going back now. Couldn't pull him out if I wanted to. SG1 through and through. With all its merits. I almost thought Teal'c wasn't going to put him down until Doctor Frasier showed up. Delivered straight into her capable hands. And was Major Carter worried about herself? No. That much was obvious. More concerned with how Doctor Carter was. O'Neill looked like he was on the verge of collapse, but stayed in the gate room until he knew that Doctor Carter was alive. Wouldn't budge. Doctor Jackson either for that matter. Although, out of the lot of them, Jackson looked surprisingly well.   
  
"General Hammond."  
  
The General looked up, startled to see Janet standing in front of him. Standing quickly, he returned her salute.  
  
"I'm sorry for intruding General, but I knocked. When you didn't answer I was concerned and came in."  
  
"It's quite all right Doctor. Do you have news on SG1? How are they? Doctor Carter? Major Carter?"  
  
"Yes Sir. First, I want to assure you that they are all stable. They are all going to make full recoveries."  
  
"Thank God. What are their conditions?"  
  
"Well Sir, Daniel is doing quite well. His antihistamines for his allergies protected him from the effects of the chemical they all inhaled. For once his allergies were a blessing. If he hadn't taken an antihistamine, given his vulnerability to allergens, he probably would have been much worse off than any of them. His heart rate is stable, which is what I was concerned about after the electrical charge they were subjected to. I'm keeping him in the infirmary overnight with the others for observation."  
  
General Hammond looked relieved at the news, and ran a hand over the top of his smooth head. "Go on Doctor."  
  
"Yes Sir. Teal'c is recovering quickly with the help of his symbiote. He was affected by the chemical on the planet, but received an injection of epinephrine almost immediately, forestalling any damage. His symbiote went to work quite quickly, and I am treating him simply with intravenous fluids and oxygen.  
  
"I'm treating both Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter for anaphylactic shock and the electrical jolt they took on the planet. As both received epinephrine injections right away, I'm not overly concerned about lingering effects. I'm treating them both with corticosteroids, fluids, oxygen and I'm also monitoring their heart functions. Here's the good news General. I've taken Major Carter for an MRI and she is only suffering from a herniated disk. A condition Doctor Carter apparently diagnosed off world. The fact that she did have brief loss of functioning in her left side does concern me, however she seems to be able to move her limbs with no problems now. Rather than put her in traction, I'm ordering a short leave of absence. As bed rest is not beneficial to her condition, I will not be keeping her in the infirmary. I'll be releasing her with the others."  
  
Janet paused and looked at the General, who's face relaxed with each bit of news.   
  
"And Doctor Carter? How is he?"  
  
"Doctor Carter is still unconscious General. His body took more of a punch than the others when he didn't receive the epinephrine injection. By the time Teal'c brought him through the gate, he was cyanotic and in V-fib. We were able to shock his heart back into a normal sinus rhythm. I was able to administer epinephrine in the gate room, however, his body was deprived of oxygen for quite some time. He's intubated at the moment and he's being treated the same as the Colonel and Major Carter. Corticosteroids and intravenous fluids. We have him on a heart monitor, but his pulse ox is steady. He's stable Sir. We won't know about permanent damage from the lack of oxygen until he's conscious though."  
  
"Just why in the hell didn't he give himself the epinephrine injection Doctor?"  
  
Janet looked at the General and the realization dawned on her. He didn't know. He assumed that there was enough for all of them.   
  
"I'm sorry General. I thought you knew. There were only three syringes of epinephrine in the med kit. He deliberately did not give himself the shot."  
  
The General sank back in his chair. This was getting worse and worse. Had he somehow gotten the impression that he had to withhold treatment from himself in order to treat the others? That was not what he was assigned to the team for. His life was as valuable as any other. Hammond sighed and looked at Janet.  
  
"Why Doctor? Was he ordered to treat the others and withhold treatment from himself? Did he think there was enough? Did he miscount? What was it?"  
  
"He knew he was the weakest Sir. From what I understand from talking to the others, he was in no condition to either help carry Major Carter or whoever else may have been denied the injection. He weighed the risks and made a decision."  
  
"I see Doctor. Thank you. Please inform SG1 that I will be debrief with them tomorrow at 0100 hours."  
  
"Yes Sir." Janet paused, "And General? He made the right decision. In case you were doubting that. There was no alternative." Silently, Janet turned and left the General alone with his thoughts.  
  
*****  
  
Pain! Ohhh, my Gaaawwd. What happened? My lungs-burning! Caaann't thiinnk. My head. Pounding. Not again. It hurts!   
  
'Beep.''Beep.''Beep.''Beep.'  
  
What is that?   
  
'Beep.' 'Beep.' 'Beep.' 'Beep.' 'Beep.'  
  
No. No! Not again. Not. . . again.   
  
'Beep.' 'Beep.' 'Beep.' 'Beep.' 'Beep.' 'Beep.' 'Beep.' 'Beep.'  
  
"John! Wake up! Time to wake up now!"  
  
No. It happened again. Lucy? Is Lucy okay? Doctor Benton? What's happening?  
  
"Doctor Carter! Wake up!"  
  
John's eyes snapped open and he found himself staring into a pair of large, brown, eyes which were fastened to him, as if afraid to stray from his face. Lucy? No, Lucy's dead. Kerry? Hmm, Kerry's eyes are more Hazel. Janet!  
  
"Janet?" John mumbled, his hazy mind clearing a bit. Oh, talking was not a good idea. John grimaced as the small effort sent shivers of pain down his sore throat and into his weakened lungs.   
  
"Yes, it's Janet. John? Do you remember what happened? Do you know where you are?"  
  
Hospital. No, infirmary? On base. SGC. Planet? Grass, flowers. Electricity. Planes, no-something flying out of the stargate. Getting sprayed with something. No air. Couldn't breath. Someone, lifting-carrying me. Voices. Pain.  
  
John nodded and licked his lips. "SGC. Infirmary? Got. . . sprayed by something. Anaphylactic shock. Had to. . ." John's body was gripped by deep coughs and he clutched at the sheet covering his body. After the coughs had subsided he continued.   
  
"Only three shots. Had to decide. Too weak. . .." Janet lifted a cup of ice chips to his lips and he gratefully accepted one into his mouth and sucked on it. Ahhh, heaven.   
  
"Do you know what day it is John?"  
  
Hmm. Met with the General Friday. Got a nice little 'bonus'. Apartment hunting. Moved in with Daniel the next day. Saturday. Almost got to Karaoke. Called back to base. Went off world. Same day? Maybe it was Sunday by then. Doesn't matter. Walked all day Sunday. Kind of fitting. God always seems that much closer surrounded by nature. Only thing that would have made that better would have been Marigold. You're drifting John! Okay, okay. Got to Sam. Camped. Talked to Jack under the light of the moon. Any camp town ladies out there John? No? Than knock off the lyrics. Headed back to base Monday. Almost became a 'crispy critter'. Who knows how long we were out. Nightfall. Attacked by big, ugly, flying-things. Almost died. Not sure when that happened. Was it Tuesday yet? How long have I been out of it? A couple hours? Days? So it's either Tuesday or sometime after that.  
  
"Tuesday?"  
  
"Wednesday actually. But you've been unconscious for a while. I extubated you last night. Do you remember waking up at all?"  
  
John shook his head. So that's why his throat was sore. Thank God he didn't remember. Waking up to the sounds of a heart monitor had been disturbing enough.   
  
"Where are the others?"  
  
"I released them this morning. I treated all of you, well, except for Daniel for the anaphylactic shock and monitored everyone's heart rhythms to make sure there were no after effects of the electrical pulse." Janet looked at John and smiled. "You were right about Sam. It was a herniated disk. The swelling has gone done immensely, and I released her as well. But no field duty for at least a month. She should be able to return to full active duty after Christmas."  
  
John shifted and grimaced as his chest tightened again. "When can I get out of here?"  
  
"Well, I would like to keep you overnight for observation. You were critical when you came through the gate John. I won't lie. You were cyanotic and in V-fib and I had to shock you to get a normal sinus rhythm. It wasn't pretty. You scared a hell of a lot of people. Colonel O'Neill included."   
  
Colonel O'Neill?  
  
"I'll release you first thing tomorrow morning. I don't think you really want to be stuck in here on Thanksgiving." Janet paused uncomfortably, "Were you planning on going back to Chicago for Thanksgiving John? I, well. . . I tried calling your family and no one's called me back. Is something going on?"  
  
So it wasn't his imagination. His family really had cut him off. Why? What did he ever do to deserve that? So he hadn't joined the business. So he hadn't stayed in Chicago. He's thirty years old! Old enough to make his own decisions, and definitely old enough to chose his own career.   
  
"No. Um, Colonel O'Neill invited me over to his place. I guess Daniel and Teal'c will be there too. Some sort of 'tradition.' I, I haven't heard from my family. I guess they're just busy. Off on business or something. Wouldn't be the first holiday they've missed. I'm just surprised they didn't tell me. But I don't think they're too happy with me right now. They weren't exactly-supportive, of my working here."  
  
"Oh. Well, I've spent a Thanksgiving or two with SG1 and it's really quite fun. But not too much fun-doctor's orders."  
  
"Yes Ma'am!" John laughed quietly, yet silently cursed as another ripple of pain engulfed him. Damn him and his addiction! Ibuprofen just wasn't cutting it. He wanted drugs, and he wanted them badly.  
  
Janet caught the look on his face which he had fought to conceal. This wasn't going to be easy. She felt bad for him, but knew he couldn't have anything stronger. He would just have to ride it out.  
  
"Now just lie back and take it easy. You have all day to relax. I've given the nurses strict orders to hide all the patient charts where you can't get to them. No working. Got it?" Janet waited and was rewarded by a quick nod from her patient. She started to leave, but turned back. "Oh yes, you have a visitor."  
  
As Janet walked out, Jack walked in. Back in uniform and ready to get back to work. Jack stood nervously just inside the door.   
  
"So. How are you?"  
  
"Um, I'm fine."  
  
"Fine? You had a machine breathing for you for almost twenty four hours, and you're fine? Jeez Doc, you were blue! That's not fine!"   
  
John stared at his commanding officer in surprise. Why was he reacting like this? I'm alive. I'm breathing on my own. Brain seems to be working. I'm fine.  
  
"Is, is something wrong?"  
  
"Hell yes something's wrong! In case you haven't noticed, you're still in the infirmary. You only land in the infirmary if something's 'wrong'. You shouldn't be here. What were you thinking? When the shit hits the fan, you get out of the way. Let me take the fall. You should have given yourself that last injection. Not me. That's what's wrong."  
  
Jack watched as John's face crumpled a little as it was engulfed by a wave of confusion.   
  
"Colonel. I took an oath. To save lives. I'm a doctor. That's who I am. I can't put my own needs ahead of everyone else. Not if it means someone might die."  
  
"Damnit Doc! You almost died! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Jack regretted those words the moment he said them. Of course that means something. This wasn't the first time the doctor had almost died.   
  
"Someone would have died if I'd chosen myself," John spit back. "Do you really think I could have lifted Sam's stretcher through the gate? Or helped you through when you weren't breathing? I'm not stupid. My back was killing me before that electrical shock hit. How do you think it felt afterwards? I could barely move. But I had no choice. There was no way I was going to be able to lift anything when the time came. I knew you could. I knew that no matter what you were feeling at the time, you would come through for me. For your team. I couldn't make that same promise. It was you or me. I chose you." John closed his eyes for a moment as another tinge of pain reminded him that he shouldn't be yelling.  
  
"And in case you're wondering, I don't have a death wish. Been there, done that. I plan on staying on this team, and I plan on working my ass off to build up my strength. Maybe you forgot, but I wasn't supposed to be out there in the first place for another couple of months. When I go back out, and I will go back out, I'll be stronger. I won't make the same decision. I know that as a physician, your lives are in my hands. If I go down, I can't help the rest of you. I'll do whatever I have to do to ensure that this team makes it home in one piece. Even if that means choosing myself over you, or Daniel, or Sam, or Teal'c."  
  
Jack stared at the doctor lying on the bed. A doctor who no longer appeared so innocent or so lost.   
  
"So, how are you?  
  
"I told you, I'm fi. . .." John caught Jack's look and quickly stopped. What did he want? Did he want to hear that John was not okay? That he was scared? That he hated being in the infirmary? That he hated the feeling of being powerless?  
  
"What do you want Colonel? I don't understand. I'm fine. I'm breathing on my own. Yeah, I'm a little sore, but that'll pass. No brain damage. Janet's releasing me tomorrow morning. I'm fine!"  
  
"What I want. . .." What do I want? Why am I even here yelling at this kid? If he says he's fine, he's fine. Let it go. But-I don't believe him. I don't think he believes it. If he does, well, that scares me even more.   
  
"What I want, is for you to realize that I don't expect you to be fine. That I don't expect you to pretend that your scia, scia. . .,"  
  
"Sciatica."  
  
"That your sciatica isn't giving you grief. That being here," Jack waved his hand broadly around the room, "doesn't bother you. Doesn't remind you of what happened. What I want, is for you to realize that you have limits, and that you should speak up when you hit those limits."  
  
"Why do you care?" The question was almost a whisper, a thought mistakenly uttered aloud. Jack fell silent, stunned. Why did he care?   
  
Jeez Doc. Don't you know what it means to have someone care about you? You have a family. You've been through a major ordeal. You must have had someone there to show you that they care. That you're worth that much. Didn't you? Oops. Maybe not. Forgot that you're coming to my place tomorrow. Family mysteriously disappeared off the face of the planet. Friends then? That 'I'm fine' line rolls off your tongue way too easily. Guess they bought it though, huh?   
  
"I care, when one of my people, one of my friends, is in obvious pain and won't admit it. I care, when one of those friends seems to think that he's not worth the concern of others. I care, when that friend doesn't realize just how important he is."  
  
Did I just say that? Friend? Well, maybe not yet, but I have a feeling we'll get there. Just give it time.   
  
John lay quietly on his bed, mulling over what Jack had just said. Jack didn't know him. But here he was, calling John 'friend'. Telling him that he cared what happened to him. Cared that he was in pain. But why? Damnit John! Who cares why? Isn't it enough that he does? You lucky bastard. You didn't know it when you signed up, but you found what you've been searching your while life for and you didn't even see it. Until it was spelled out for you that is.   
  
"Colonel? I'm a bit sore. And tired. I think I'm going to try and get some sleep."  
  
Jack sighed as he watched John turn over, away from him. Damn. I thought I got through. I really thought he was starting to understand. Jack started for the door and stopped. 'Sore.' 'Tired.' Not 'fine'. Jack smiled and called out over his shoulder,  
  
"Get some sleep then and I'll be here in the morning to pick you up. Be ready early, cuz I have to get the turkey going right away or we'll never eat."   
  
Jack laughed as he heard a muffled, "Yes, Sir," come from the bed. Maybe this was going to work out after all.  
  
*****  
  
"What happened out there people?" General Hammond swept his gave over SG1, well, most of SG1. Young Doctor Carter was still in the infirmary.  
  
Jack stirred in his seat and opened his mouth to try and explain the rapid degeneration of events that occurred on the 'peaceful' planet.   
  
"Well Sir, P2, ah, something. . ."  
  
"P248X484."  
  
"Ah, yeah, thanks Daniel," Jack looked at Daniel for a moment in amazement.   
  
How did he do that? He didn't even have a piece of paper in front of him to peek at to come up the planet designation. Just remembered it. Like always. Like everything, including Jack's 'attitude' towards the doctor a month ago, that Daniel somehow decided was an indirect jab at himself. Guess the comment hit a little too close to home. Thankfully, they had finally talked about it, out there in the middle of nowhere. Called for a cease fire. Jack had called himself a 'jerk', and Daniel had been quick to agree. Is that what he thought? That I'm a jerk? Does he still think I'm a jerk? He hasn't exactly been opening up to me lately. I thought it was just him being 'Daniel'. But I'm not so sure anymore. Hell, the guy offered up his spare room to the Doc! That doesn't happen unless there was some sort of 'sharing' going on. Some mutual understanding. Not like there isn't enough for them to have a 'mutual understanding'. No family support. Both young and talented at what they do best. Both faced some sort of addiction. Jeez Jack. What, are you jealous? Daniel's free to make as many friends as he wants. Not like that's too difficult for him. Not like it is for me.   
  
"Colonel?"  
  
Jack's eyes focused and he found himself staring at Daniel, who looked back at him, face flushed, probably from embarrassment. Hell, Jack had just been staring at him for no apparent reason. Jack looked around and realized that everyone was looking at him intently.  
  
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Anyway P248X484 appeared peaceful as the initial report indicated. However, there was a pointed absence of animal life-no animals, birds, or even bugs. Not that I missed finding the little creepy crawlers in my sleeping bag. . .. Doctor Carter, Daniel and Teal'c made it to our position by nightfall of our third day and we set up camp. Everything was fine until close to dusk the next day when we felt a charge to the air. Teal'c took a couple readings which indicated that there was an electrical charge coming from the direction of the stargate. We got hit by a pretty major burst of electrical current which knocked us all out. When we were all able to move, we started back, double time. We were within eye sight of the stargate when those, things, flew out and began spraying over the grass. I don't think it was targeting us General. We just happened to be there. All of us, well, except Daniel, started having trouble breathing and that's when the doctor gave us the injections of epinephrine. We were pretty close to the gate when the doctor collapsed and Teal'c carried him through."  
  
"I see. Do we have the lab analysis back on what that chemical was?"  
  
Janet flipped open a folder that was lying on the table in front of her. "Yes Sir. It appears to be some sort of a fertilizer. Similar properties to those contained in our own 'super-fertilizers' on Earth. However, this compound did contain a chemical which we were unable to identify. The physical properties of the compound were intriguing. While it had fallen in a powdered form, once it settled on the team's clothing, it began to break down quickly. We barely had time to run an analysis on it. This might be a result of the unknown chemical agent, but that's still undetermined.   
  
"I'm assuming that this is an intentional aspect of the compound, given its high toxicity and its immediate effects on SG1. Once it breaks down, it's 'safe'. It appears harmful only when inhaled. But without more of the compound to study, this is still only a hypothesis. I guess it's a good thing that there were no animals on the planet, because this substance would also hold a high risk for them as well. Granted that they would require oxygen to survive."  
  
"Or maybe there are animals on the planet, but we just didn't see them." Sam leaned forward, her eyes wide, her brain working on a solution to the mystery.  
  
"Go on Major."  
  
"Well Sir, that electrical pulse was strong enough to knock us out for a short time. But it didn't do any permanent damage. And I know I could feel the charge start slowly before it became disabling. Perhaps there was a steady undercurrent which we weren't aware of until it became strong enough to catch our attention. Animals are more sensitive to stimuli. Maybe the charge was meant to keep the animals out of the area. Sort of a precautionary measure? Perhaps what we had walked into was some sort of a testing ground, or a farm of sorts. Maybe it's being run by some big, intergalactic chemical company."  
  
Janet stomach turned at the implications of what Sam was saying. "Sir, I recommend that we continue to run surveillance on the planet and see if we can get a larger sample of the chemical which the team was subjected to. While there appear to be no lingering after effects from the chemical, I still don't know what it was or if there is the possibility of future effects. Whoever is responsible for that chemical being dropped, went to great lengths to keep the area clear of any life forms which may have ingested it."  
  
"I agree Doctor. I'll send a team in full HazMat gear to set up sensors on the planet. SG1, you're on stand down until Monday. Maybe we'll have some answers by then. Dismissed."   
  
*****  
  
"Any luck John?" Daniel approached the doctor who was setting the phone back on its cradle.   
  
"No. I got Henry, Gamma's butler though. He wished me a very happy Thanksgiving. Apparently Gamma was 'unable to come to the phone.'" John smiled, half heartedly. The pain he was feeling was getting too hard to hide though and his smiled sagged.   
  
"Oh. I'm sorry," Daniel paused. "Jack says dinner's ready. Let's get something to eat."   
  
John followed behind Daniel wordlessly. As he neared the table, he could see and smell an array of dishes which actually looked quite appetizing. Lifting his eyebrows he looked at Jack.  
  
"You made all of this?"  
  
"Yes." Jack looked hurt as he glanced down at his neatly prepared feast. "I've been slaving over the hot stove all day. What did you think the smell was?"  
  
"Um, well. Actually, I kind of thought you ordered in, or something. Sorry. It looks great. I couldn't cook like this if it meant saving my life."  
  
"That's okay. You can do the dishes. You do know how to wash dishes?"  
  
"Ha ha. Very funny. Of course I can wash dishes. Where's the dishwasher?" John turned as he heard a snigger behind him.   
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"Jack doesn't have a dishwasher." Daniel was straight out laughing now at the wide eyed look he was getting from John.  
  
"No dishwasher? Uh, that's okay. Sure. No dishwasher. Not like I'm not capable of doing dishes. . .." John was mumbling to himself by this time and Jack finally came to his rescue.  
  
"I have a dishwasher." Jack turned and glared at the anthropologist who was still laughing at the look on John's face when he thought he had to wash the dishes by hand. "You can help him."  
  
Daniel stopped laughing and looked took on a serious look. Then he deeply bowed and said, "Daniel Jackson. Dishwasher extraordinaire at your service."  
  
They all laughed and filled their plates. Rather than sit at the table, they settled in front of the television to watch the game.   
  
Unable to shake his professor mentality, a thought struck Daniel. "You know, it's been said that football is the religion of the twentieth century. More people attend football games than church services. Brings people together with one purpose."  
  
"Yeah, to eat, drink, and be merry."  
  
"I'm serious Jack."  
  
"So am I."   
  
Ignoring Jack, Daniel continued. "The stadium is the new place of worship. Temple of sorts. Instead of worshiping one or more gods, we worship the team of choice. We engage in rituals such as body painting to express our belief in the team. We chant together. We sing songs of praise. . .."  
  
"Thank you Daniel. Can we watch the game now? Or does anyone have anything they would like to add?"  
  
"I have an observation Colonel O'Neill. I am intrigued by this new 'religion' Daniel Jackson speaks of. Perhaps that is why the Gao'uld ruled planets have no such activity." Teal'c looked at Daniel who was about to respond when Jack broke in once again.   
  
"Oh, for crying out loud. Can we just watch the game? Leave all the mythical mumbo jumbo for later when we have to think about the Gao'uld? It's Thanksgiving. Let's just be thankful that we can watch the game without one of those slimy critters breathing down our necks. Or in our necks."  
  
John leaned back and listened to the friendly interactions amongst his new team mates-his new friends. Smiling, he raised his glass.  
  
"I'd like to make a toast." The others stopped talking and looked at John.   
  
"What is a toast?"  
  
"Just lift your glass Teal'c." Jack raised his glass and waited for John to continue.  
  
John spoke quietly, "It's been one hell of year for me. I didn't think I actually had anything to be grateful for. I was wrong."  
  
"I have a home." John looked at Daniel. "I have a job where people care about what happens to me." Jack. "I'm surrounded by people who refuse to let me die." Teal'c. "I have friends who are willing to listen to me and not judge me for what I've done." Sam. "And people who are looking out for my welfare." John's thoughts turned to Janet and General Hammond.   
  
"What more can one man ask for?"  
  
"Here here!" Their glasses clinked together as each man's thoughts turned inwards.   
  
Somberly, Jack looked at the people-his friends, who were sharing the day with him. "As our loved ones aren't here with us today, I just wanted to say, well, I'm just glad that you guys are."  
  
"Happy Thanksgiving."  



	12. Default Chapter Title

Something Old, Something New  
Part Twelve  
By: Victoria F.  
  
John lay on his bed with his head sunk low into his feather pillow and his cordless phone pressed against his forehead. The phone was warm in his hand from holding it for so long while contemplating whether or not he really wanted to call Abby. Did she want to hear from him after all this time? He had, after all, virtually abandoned their friendship when he left Chicago. While he sat waiting for his phone to ring, waiting to hear from his family, he had never bothered to pick up the phone and dial one of his closest friends.   
  
John turned his head and glanced at his window. The curtains were still open, and the full moon lit up the night outside. It was late. He shouldn't call. He didn't have that right to call her anymore at all hours, just to chat or to talk about a bad day. The digital numbers on his alarm clock glowed-2:00A.M. Way too late. John doubted that Abby would want to be awakened by the phone at 3:00A.M. And what if Luka was there? John knew that Abby had been seeing Luka when he left. But John didn't even know if they were still together, or if Abby was on in the early morning. He shouldn't call.  
  
John set the phone back on its base and forced himself to close his eyes. He'd just go back to sleep. Try some of those relaxation techniques he learned in therapy. John drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Tensing all his muscles, John then started to relax his body, one part at a time. Starting with his feet. By the time John got to his head, he realized that he was more awake then before. Guess concentrating so hard on forcing muscles to relax when they would rather be rock hard took more energy then he thought. Willing to give it on more last ditch effort, John stumbled out of bed and over to his stereo. He picked out a CD and dropped it in the CD player, snapping the lid closed. John collapsed back onto his bed as the sound of classical piano mixed with the sounds of nature drifted out of his CD player.   
  
An hour later, John was still wide awake. The CD had ended, but he hadn't felt like putting in another. Thoughts about the weekend, the past week really, were tumbling about in his mind. Going off-world. Almost dying-again. Spending Thanksgiving with his new team. Not hearing from his family at all in the past month. It was all so much to take in and John could feel himself reaching for the phone again. To hell with it. If she's mad, he'd apologize and hang up. John grabbed the phone and leaned back, automatically dialing the number he knew by heart.  
  
One ring. Two rings. Great, she's gonna be mad. Three rings. Hang up John! John drew in a short breath and held it, a silent prayer skittered through his mind. Four rings. . ..   
  
"Hello?" a tired voice whispered into the phone.  
  
John's mind blanked as he heard the familiar voice on the other end of the phone line.   
  
"Hello? Is anyone there?" Her voice was louder this time, and decidedly more perturbed than a moment ago.  
  
"Uh, Abby? Hi, it's John. Carter." This was definitely a mistake. Why did he call? What was he thinking?  
  
"Carter? Hi!" Abby's voice was tinged with pleasure at hearing John's voice. She'd almost given up on him after weeks of no contact. Not even a postcard. From her bed in Chicago, Abby glanced at her alarm. 4:00A.M.?  
  
"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" Abby's voice was laced with concern now. Why would John be calling at 4:00 in the morning? True, they had taken to calling each other no matter what the time when John was still in Chicago, but that seemed like a million years ago.   
  
"No, no. Nothing happened. I just, well, I couldn't sleep and thought of you. And, well, I missed our late night phone chats. I was hoping you wouldn't mind," John paused. "Do you mind? I mean, do you have to work at six or anything? I'm not disturbing you, am I?" John realized that he was rambling, but he couldn't stop himself. He felt like a giddy school boy calling a girl for the first time. But it wasn't as if Abby was his girlfriend or anything. John could feel himself blushing and was glad for a moment that Abby was in another state.  
  
"It's no problem." Abby yawned, trying her hardest to muffle the sound. John heard the small moan of exhaustion and mentally chastised himself one more time for calling Abby so late.  
  
"I'm sorry. You're tired. I call back later sometime. I'm sorry for waking you up."  
  
"John! Really. I don't mind. I'm off tomorrow, and, to be honest, I miss our talks too. I'm glad you called."  
  
John smiled with pleasure at Abby's confession. "So how's Chicago??  
  
"Still here. Hold on a sec, I'm going to go and get some coffee." Abby put down the phone and shuffled into her kitchen. Turning on her coffee maker, she quickly pulled out the old coffee filter and stuck in a new one, and dumped in a heaping mound of coffee grounds. After pouring in the water, she hurried back into the bedroom and grabbed the phone.  
  
"John? Still there?"  
  
"Yup. Any thing new going on in your life? You and Kovac still seeing each other?" John cringed as he asked the question. He liked Luka Kovac in general, but as far as he and Abby were concerned, it just wasn't a good match. John worried about Abby getting used and hurt. She'd taken enough crap from her ex. She didn't need to be in another dead end relationship.  
  
"We still go out, occasionally. We're not an item or anything. Although I think most of the ER staff already have us hitched. But you know how that goes. As far as anything 'new', well, things are really hectic at County right now. I'm sure by now you heard about Doctor Benton's nephew being shot."  
  
"What? No! When did that happen?"   
  
"Last week. He was in pretty bad shape when he was brought in. No one knew who he was at first. They had to open up both sides of his chest."  
  
John sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. Benton's nephew got shot and he didn't even know about it. Would he have ever found out if he hadn't called Abby? He doubted it. John thought of Peter and how he must be feeling. At least he had Doctor Finch there to comfort him. He wasn't alone. Of course, he was probably pushing Cleo away as he had pushed John away so often. The way the surgeon had pushed Elizabeth and Carla away as well. John sighed as he realized how alike he and his mentor truly were, and yet neither of them seemed to see it.   
  
"How is he?"  
  
"Doctor Benton? He's holding his own. You know how he is."  
  
"Yeah, I do," Uncomfortable with the news, and remembering how badly he and Benton had parted, John paused. "So. . . anything else new?"  
  
Abby was silent on the other end of the phone.   
  
"Abby? Still there?"  
  
"Mmn. Well, my mother's here. In Chicago." Abby's voice reflected how tired her soul was from this new turn of events in her own life.  
  
"Oh? You haven't told me about her. Has it been awhile, since you've seen her I mean?"  
  
"It's been awhile. She's, she's," Abby struggled to find the right word to describe her bipolar mother who refused to take her medications, enjoying instead the turbulent highs and lows of her disease. "Complicated." Rather than wait for John to respond, Abby rushed on.  
  
"She's bipolar. She made my life a living hell for so long, and finally, when I thought that my life was my own, she shows back up. Do you know what it's like to live with someone who has bipolar? To never know where your next meal is going to come from because the one person who is supposed to provide for you, take care of you, love you, feed you-be an adult, is too busy acting like a child herself to even notice how hungry you are?" Abby fell silent, stunned by her own outburst, cringing in fear that her mother may have overheard her.  
  
"No Abby, I have no idea what that's like. I'm sorry." John's voice was gentle, empathetic. "Are you okay? Are you handling this okay?"  
  
"I'm okay. Oh, I don't know actually! I'm so confused! I actually forced her out of my car the other day at the bus station. I was sending her back home to my brother. Then, all of a sudden, there she was, back at County. She sat in chairs all day waiting for me to talk to her. I almost had security escort her out. How mean is that John? To call security on your own mother? God! I'm a terrible person aren't I? You would never do that to your mother. No one would."  
  
"Abby. I don't know what you've been through with your mother. I can't-I won't judge you for that. What are you going to do?" John gently pushed Abby to continue.  
  
"I have no idea. I love her John, I really do. But I want her gone. I want to focus on me for a change. This is my chance to finally do something for myself. Not for that loser of an ex-husband of mine, and not for my mother. For me. That's all I've ever wanted for so long. Now, when I've got that chance, she shows back up. For now she's here. I don't know why she came. Well, yes I do. She says because she heard I separated from my ex. Separated. Can you believe that? I'm divorced now, and she comes to support me through my separation. Where was she when I was just separating? I could have used her then." Abby's voice cracked and she bit back tears that desperately wanted to slide down her face in an avalanche of emotion.  
  
"I'm sorry Abby. This must be tough. You know you can call me whenever you feel like it-don't you? I hope we're still friends. You've supported me through so much, I hope I can return the favor."  
  
"Thanks John. You know what, I'm going to do that. You'll probably regret even mentioning it to me." Abby's voice was etched with humor as she teased her friend. Feeling a bit better knowing that John still wanted to hear from her, still wanted to be a part of her life, she continued;  
  
"So, John, how are things for you out there in Colorado? You haven't exactly been keeping in touch with us you know."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry. I guess I got caught up in all of this. It's really exciting out here. I've been really busy, training-I mean, studying and all. Janet, the head doctor at the base is great. She doesn't treat me like a student at all. In fact, I pretty much have the run of the infirmary when she's not around. Not that we have the amount of traffic going through here like County's ER sees, but we do have our days. And I'm learning a lot. I never knew military life could be so, well, rewarding. I've met some great people and even spent Thanksgiving with a couple of them. . .." John ran out of breath and realized that he had almost been rambling from his excitement at telling as much about his new life as he could. He didn't hear Abby at first as she attempted to ask him a question.  
  
"John! Hello! Did you just say you spend Thanksgiving with them? Wouldn't they let you leave to spend the holiday with your family? That doesn't sound very thrilling."  
  
John's face burned as he was confronted once again with the cold, harsh truth that his family had not wanted him home. Had not once tried to get in touch with him.  
  
"Ah, well. Hmm. I could have gone home-to Chicago that is, but ah, my family doesn't seem to want me there. So a couple guys who spend the holidays together every year invited me to spend the day with them. One of them is my new roommate actually. Daniel." John fell silent, as his breath caught in his throat. No matter how trivial he tried to make it sound, he had been rejected by his family. Pure and simple.   
  
"Oh. Jeez John, now it's my turn to say I'm sorry. You could have called me. I would have loved to have had company. Well, 'we' would have loved to have had company. Luka and I, that is. We spent the day together." Abby stopped talking, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the confession.  
  
Sucking in a breath, Abby changed the subject, "So, tell me about your roommate. I assume you met on base?"  
  
"Yeah, well, we work together. Daniel's an archeologist and a linguist. He's a doctor actually-well, not a medical doctor, but the other kind. Actually he's got three Ph.D.s to his name. Speaks twenty three languages. Pretty impressive guy actually. Nice though. Not egotistical or anything. He was helping me apartment hunt and finally took pity on me when I couldn't settle on an apartment I liked. Well, that's not really the truth. I just didn't like the thought of being alone, so he offered to let me share his place. It's big enough and all. But it's pretty intimidating too-he's got all sorts of old books and artifacts around here. It's like a museum."  
  
"But are you getting along?"  
  
"Oh yeah. We've actually got a lot in common. He knows about when I was stabbed and what it did to me. I would have thought that would have scared him enough to make him change his mind and all-about letting me move in that is. But I guess he knows what it's like to go through crap and to have people there for you. I guess he took pity on me. But I don't care if that's what it is. I'm just glad that I'm not alone right now. I really don't think I could stand being alone. Not yet at least."  
  
"John," Abby hesitated, "are you attending any AA or NA meetings? Don't get me wrong, you sound like you're doing great, but, you know, this is a big change and all. You really shouldn't be doing this alone."  
  
John sighed and leaned his head forward until his forehead was leaning against his raised knees. "No, I've been really busy. There just doesn't seem to be enough time to go. Honestly, I haven't even thought about AA since I've gotten here. But I'm fine. I don't feel like sticking a needle in my arm or anything, if that's what you're concerned about."  
  
"I didn't say that. But I know what it's like to be going through so many changes and feel like you're all alone. I know what it can do to you. When you said Daniel knows what the stabbing did to you-do you mean he knows about your addiction?" Abby closed her eyes and hoped that John had told his new friend, had told someone the entire truth.  
  
"No. He doesn't know. I only told him about being stabbed, and Lucy. I don't now why I didn't tell him everything. I guess, I want these people to trust me, and the only people who know the truth are Janet and the General in charge of the base. They didn't seem to think that anyone else needed to know."  
  
Abby groaned. "So you haven't told anyone? You can't keep this to yourself John. Don't hide it like some horrible secret. Yeah, it's embarrassing to admit, but it's part of who you are. You can't deal with it if you pretend it isn't there."  
  
"I didn't say I haven't told anyone. I told someone. The guy who invited me over for Thanksgiving actually. Colonel O'Neill. He's second in command of the base. I was having a hard time one night-er, day, and he was there and listened. It did help a lot to tell someone. I don't know why I haven't told Daniel. I suppose I should. I live with him. He's going to notice that I practically live on cigarettes and coffee."  
  
"John, whether you tell Daniel or not, please promise me that you are going to find an AA group tomorrow-today, actually, and go. You need to do this. I know you weren't exactly enthused about the meetings here in Chicago, but they really do help. I wouldn't still be attending if I believed otherwise."  
  
"I know Abby. I will. I promise. I'll find an AA group around here and go. I will."  
  
Abby sighed quietly, not quite believing her friend who was sounding suspiciously like he had when he was in Chicago, promising Kerry and Mark, and Abby whatever it was they wanted to hear.   
  
"Okay John. I believe you. It's late and I may not have to work, but I'm betting that you do."  
  
John yawned before answering, "Yeah, I do have to be up in a couple hours actually. Thanks for listening. I miss this. Being able to call and talk I mean. It's not the same here yet. Lots of great people, but I'm not quite there yet, you know?"  
  
"I know John. Take care of yourself."  
  
"I will Abby. You too. Call me whenever you need to. I'm here for you too you know."  
  
"I know John. Good night."  
  
"Night." John pulled the cordless phone away from his ear and slowly pressed the send button, shutting off the phone. The silence that settled around him was thick and disturbing. John sighed and sunk down under his covers. Glancing at the window, he noticed a faint pink glow in the sky, indicating the start of another day. Maybe he could sleep now. Maybe.  
  
*****  
  
Daniel eased himself away from the door, ashamed that he had been eavesdropping on his new roommate. His new friend. He'd been in the kitchen getting some coffee when he heard John's voice and thought that he was having a nightmare. Concerned, he'd quietly neared John's door. But as he was about to push open the door, he realized that John was on the phone. He was about to go back to his room when he heard his name, and of course, curiosity got the better of him. So he'd stayed and listened.  
  
Most of what he heard wasn't too much of shock. Hell, he was proud that the doctor maintained confidentiality, never once revealing what really went on out here in Colorado. But when he'd heard John's promise to find an AA group, Daniel was stunned. AA? That meant John was an alcoholic, or had some other form of a drug addiction. As far as Daniel knew, John hadn't once left the base unless he was with one of SG1. Meaning he hadn't been to a meeting in over a month.   
  
Daniel's mind was reeling. He should have known there was more to John's story when he'd heard it. That something more was going on with this man than he professed. Being tossed over John's shoulder should have given him some indication that John had been deeply affected by his attack-more so than the younger man let on. The fact that he had turned to drugs or alcohol to cope with it didn't come as a surprise.   
  
Daniel slowly turned and began to walk towards his own room. Not liking the knowledge that John was in need of help that he wasn't getting, Daniel mumbled quietly to himself,  
  
"We'll just have to do something about that."  



	13. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: ER/ characters are property of nbc, warner bros, constant c, amblin, etc. Stargate-SG1/ characters are property of showtime/ viacom, mgm/ua, double secret productions, and gekko productions. this is written purely for enjoyment purposes only-no profit involved.   
  
RATING: R Graphic violence, profanity. Lots of Angst!!!! Minor character death.  
  
*Special thanks to the 'other' Victoria for waiting so patiently for this, especially after I promised it would be done back in December. =S  
  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part Thirteen  
By: Victoria May  
  
"Welcome back SG-1; I hope you all had a pleasant holiday," General Hammond greeted the team as they settled around the briefing table.  
  
"Oh, just peachy Sir. Football, a religion lesson, and turkey-lots of turkey," Jack answered.  
  
"And pumpkin pie," Teal'c added, remembering the spicy yet sweet dessert which faintly reminded him of Chulak.   
  
"I wouldn't know-wasn't able to get my hands on a piece. Seems it mysteriously disappeared before I got to it," Daniel muttered, casting a perturbed look Teal'c's way.   
  
"The early bird gets the worm; is that not correct O'Neill? I believe that is the euphemism you used when you took the last piece of pie," Teal'c said, his lips almost turning up into what could be a smile.  
  
"Oh, for crying out loud. Can we just get to the briefing? Unless of course Major Carter has a Thanksgiving anecdote she'd like to share?"  
  
Sam quietly shrugged her shoulders, struggling not to laugh at the petulant look Daniel was now shooting at Jack. Throughout the whole interplay, John sat quietly, not quite knowing how to act at what he thought was an official meeting. But judging by the behavior of his team mates. . ..  
  
"Let's get down to business people."   
  
Oh, the general sounds serious. Better not to emulate the rest of the team-hmm, maybe I should just file that one away for future reference. Probably where the old saying, 'Do as I say, not as I do' came from. John frowned and turned his attention to the general. It probably wouldn't go over too well to make a bad impression at his first briefing-official briefing that is. Not counting being dragged back to base in the middle of the night because one of the team was down. No, better to just try and forget that little initiation. Over and done with. Everyone's good, everyone's alive. Time to move on and hope today has more to offer.   
  
"In light of the events during your previous mission to P248X484, I am authorizing a return trip through the gate in hope of making contact with whoever is responsible for the situation there, as well as to collect any information we can on the chemical that you have all been exposed to. SG-4 went through after your return and placed special sensors and camera equipment around the gate and DHD. If anyone has come or gone through that gate in the past four days, we'll know about it. We'll open the gate and take a look first with the cameras that are on site. When we know it's safe, we'll send your team back through to collect the telemetry and samples of the plants. Major Carter will be on this side waiting for telemetry. Are there any questions?"  
  
John shifted uneasily in his chair. He'd gone through the gate prematurely because Sam's life may have depended on it. But would he be included in this reconnaissance mission now that it wasn't life and death? Or would he be banished back to the infirmary until the initial three month training period was over? Did he want to go back through the gate before then? His body still ached from the workout it received-not to mention his near death experience. As if sensing his thoughts, Sam asked,  
  
"And Dr. Carter? I assume he was included in this briefing for a reason. . .."  
  
"You mean other than the fact that he is a part of SG-1 Major?" Jack quipped.  
  
"Of course Sir. I only meant, will he be returning to P248X484 or will he be here on base working on telemetry with me?" Sam stumbled, her face flushing as she realized how her question had been received.   
  
General Hammond noted her embarrassment and waved a hand, drawing the team's attention back to himself. "In light of the medical urgency to this mission, I am authorizing Dr. Carter to return to P248X484 to gather as much data as possible. In the event that first contact is initiated, I want Dr. Carter there to work with their scientists and medical personnel to come up with an answer about this mystery chemical and its possible effects on humans."   
  
Hammond paused and looked at the team in front of him. He was pushing the envelope, he knew it, they knew it. But when an opportunity as blatant as this arose to form this team into a more cohesive unit, he wasn't turning his back. And in all fairness to the new doctor, he began this mission and he deserved to see it through. Hell, the man had already proven himself in Hammond's eyes. He'd shown that when it came down to it, he would put Earth and his team before himself. Even if it meant death. It was a lot to ask of one man, especially one who had been thrown into the thick of things before he was knew what the stakes were. The cards were on the table, and if any one of this team was bluffing, he would know.   
  
Hammond looked from one to the next, his gaze lingering on each face. Jack's face had already firmed into one of resolve and determination-yes, he was already backing the doctor with everything he had. Teal'c's face was serious, all hints of his previous humor gone. But behind his composed features, lay a calm confidence. Not worry or doubt or visions of catastrophe. Just quiet aplomb. Sam's face was still tinged just a bit, but she looked every bit as confident as Teal'c. Hammond noticed her eyes slip over, resting on the doctor and a small smile form at her lips. Hammond had known what she had been asking-that the question was of concern for her new friend and team mate, not meant to convey any malice or distrust. She knew, probably better than any of them, what the doctor's place on the team meant.   
  
Shifting his gaze down the table, slipping past the doctor quickly, Hammond noted Daniel's bowed head and fidgeting hands. He was the vision of worry, doubt, concern. Problems already? Hammond puzzled at the image in front of him for a moment then relaxed as Daniel's hands stilled and he raised his head. Blue eyes meeting green and a slight smile as he realized he was being observed. Pulling himself up straighter in his chair, Daniel glanced over at the Colonel and shrugged at the raised eyebrow he received. Hammond filed a mental note to keep an eye on the linguist extraordinaire.   
  
Finally, Hammond found himself looking at the doctor in question. A slightly grim expression, intermingled with a look of sheer willpower and courage. Nothing out of the ordinary here-he'd been thrown for a loop and was doing a damn fine job keeping his head above water. A survivor. That's the word that had been used countless times in interviews with the doctor's friends and family before he'd been brought on board. He may feel a bit out of his element, but he'd be fine.  
  
Aware that the team was becoming uncomfortable under his close scrutiny, Hammond stood. "Let's adjourn for a slight break and reconvene in the control room in one hour. Be ready for departure at that time, given we receive the proper telemetry. Dismissed."  
  
*****  
  
"Nothing Sir. The wormhole won't engage." Sam released a frustrated sigh and turned to the general.  
  
"Are you sure you dialed the correct coordinates?"  
  
"I'm positive Sir. I've restarted the dialing sequence three times, inputting the coordinates each time. I couldn't have made a mistake."  
  
"All right. Input another set of coordinates and see if the gate engages." Hammond waited while Sam programmed the system to dial the Abydonian gate. The gate sprung to life, its vortex settling peacefully. Hammond nodded to Sam to shut down the gate.  
  
"Well, it seems we have a problem people. Major Carter, program the computer to dial the gate at P248X484 at fifteen minute intervals. If it continues to fail, then we have to consider the possibility that the telemetry equipment was found and the gate somehow neutralized."  
  
Hammond turned to the rest of SG-1, noting their field gear. "SG-1, stand down for now, but be ready to depart as soon as the gate engages. Major, keep me informed of your progress."  
  
"Yes Sir."   
  
"Dr. Jackson, a word?"   
  
Daniel stopped fidgeting, his fingers still wrapped around his pack straps. He raised his head and looked at the general, his eyes questioning. Then he pushed himself away from the wall and cleared his throat.  
  
"General?"  
  
"In my office Dr. Jackson."  
  
"Ah, sure." Turning his eyes on Jack, he shrugged off his pack and laid it on the table by his CO. "Could you, ah, just keep an eye on that for me Jack?"  
  
Jack shrugged indifferently and flopped onto a chair, pulling the pack closer. He watched as Daniel turned and left the room followed by the general.  
  
"Okay, that was weird."  
  
"What was weird Colonel?" Sam asked, finishing her programming and turning to face him.   
  
Jack gestured towards the closed door. "That." Seeing the blank looks on the other faces, he tried again. "That! Whatever that was, with Daniel. I mean, did Daniel go and overspend on books again?"  
  
The sudden sound of the claxons blaring drew their attention.  
  
"Incoming traveler Sir. It's the Tok'ra and they're requesting medical assistance," Sam said, reading the control instruments.   
  
Jack leapt to his feet. "Open the iris Major."  
  
"What's going on?" General Hammond's voice boomed from the doorway.  
  
"It's the Tok'ra Sir. They're requesting medical assistance," Sam repeated.  
  
Hammond was already across the room watching the chevrons light around the gate. "Dr. Carter, with me. The rest of you stay here and monitor the situation. Jack, get on the phone with the infirmary and send a medical team down there now!"  
  
John lurched to his feet, too surprised to do anything but follow the general's orders. Numbly, he slipped free of his gear and followed the general down to the gate room. He'd been surprised by his relief that the mission was canceled, or at least postponed. Now, he found himself waiting, his heart pounding and his body ready for action. Adrenaline could be such a wonderful thing. The Tok'ra were asking them for medical help. Somehow, that thought made John more nervous than he had been. He'd read their file. They were far more advanced than humans, so why were they requesting our help in particular? It was the Tok'ra themselves who possessed the ability to use the Goa'uld healing devices, as well as numerous other 'borrowed' medical technologies. Yet they chose to contact Earth.  
  
John turned to voice his concerns to the general when the gate opened and three bedraggled figures stumbled through. Weapons pointed towards the wormhole, the three Tok'ra fired.  
  
"Is anyone else coming through? Where are your injured?" Hammond shouted.   
  
"There is no one else, shut your gate down!" called out one of the operatives.   
  
As the wormhole shut down, the blast doors began to slide shut synchronously. The iris however remained open. Hammond turned to look up at the control room window before the blast shield covered it completely and caught sight of Jack leaning over Sam's shoulder gesturing wildly.  
  
"What in the blazes is going on here? Colonel O'Neill, if you can hear me, I'm ordering you to release the blast doors!" Receiving no response, he turned back to the Tok'ra.  
  
"Where are your injured?" he asked, his voice level.  
  
"We have no injured," came the cryptic reply.  
  
John felt a flash of fear and forced it to the back of his mind. Stepping forward, he stood next to the general.   
  
"You requested medical assistance. If you have no injured, why did you make the request?"  
  
"It was the only way we knew to access this world without questions. I will have to thank the Tok'ra for their help. Without their access code, we would never have come this far."  
  
Fear came to light again, and no amount of pushing it away made him feel better. A sudden movement caught his eye and he turned as the soldiers raised their weapons to the travelers.  
  
"Who are you?" Hammond demanded.  
  
"We are of the Menax. We have come to offer an alliance against the Goa'uld. We have heard of the Tau'ri who raised arms against the gods. We have come to join the fight."  
  
"How did you get the Tok'ra code? They would not have given it freely."  
  
"No, they did not. They are an honorable people. They would die than give us means to contact you. But we have come far, and do not intend to let anything, or anyone hinder us."  
  
"The Tok'ra attempted to stop you. Why?"  
  
The Menax smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps they know of us. That would be enough." He stepped down the ramp but stopped as the weapons targeted him.  
  
"I merely mean to introduce myself properly. I am Zental, these are my associates, Rhenan and Vorma. We seek out your leader so that we may engage in negotiations."  
  
"There will be no negotiations unless you put down your weapons and release your control of this room."  
  
"I'm afraid that's not an option," Zental said as he raised his hand, firing at the row of soldiers.   
  
Guns blazed to life and John grabbed the general's shoulder, pulling him to the floor. John's hand went to his side and he realized that he hadn't been issued a side arm yet. Suddenly the weapons fire ceased and John slowly raised his head. Soldiers were lying haphazardly where they fell. John couldn't tell if any were alive or if all had met the same fate. In the midst of the fallen soldiers stood three, very alive and very angry, Menax.  
  
John moved to check on the soldiers but felt a hand hold him back. He turned to see the general shake his head firmly.  
  
"Perhaps now we can-negotiate," Zental said.  
  
"What is it that you want?" Hammond could feel his own fury building within him. He was powerless to stop the Menax and now good men were injured, maybe worse. He only hoped that Zental was smart enough to realize that they would do whatever necessary to control this situation. To ensure Earth's safety, above all else. Even if that meant sacrificing him and everyone else in the gateroom.   
  
"We want what you have. We want the coordinates to the world you call Kheb."  
  
"I'm sorry, we can't give you that. We don't negotiate with terrorists. Even now, our people are activating a self-destruct protocol. This entire base will be destroyed, including you along with it."  
  
"We will take what we want. You are powerless to stop us. Our control extends farther than this room alone. We control all of your systems. Do you think that the Tok'ra willingly expounded their code? Foolish Tau'ri. The stories are true. You are children playing a game that can only lead to destruction. You will give me what I want or I will take it!" Zental motioned behind him and Rhenan and Vorma stepped forward.  
  
Behind them, the silent gate shuddered and began to turn. Resting as a chevron lit and locked into place, the gate then continued its slow progression. Someone was coming through.  
  
"The Tok'ra follow!" Vorma exclaimed as he looked to his leader. "How can this be? They were dying!"  
  
Dying. Not dead. Tok'ra, with Goa'uld counterparts left for dead. John almost laughed as he realized that these Menax weren't quite as informed as they appeared. Finding himself empowered by a bravado that had not been there before, John taunted,  
  
"You should have known better than to leave Tok'ra for dead. They have remarkable healing abilities."  
  
"Fools! They will not survive this time," Zental sneered. Reaching into his jacket, he removed a small device. Agilely, he ran his fingers over the device and watched as it began to glow.  
  
"You won't be allowed to leave, you do know this?" Hammond asked.  
  
"Won't we? We'll see about that," Rhenan snarled from behind Zental. Grasping the glowing device firmly, Zental strode up the ramp and affixed it to the gate.  
  
Seizing the opportunity while the Menax were distracted, Hammond motioned to John. Together they began to check the downed soldiers and pulled the survivors as far from the gate as possible. John's head flew up as the last chevron locked into place and the wormhole engaged. As two, then two more Tok'ra stepped through the gate, John cried out, only to have the blast bury his warning.  
  
John noticed a ripple of light surround the three Menax before the shock wave hit him, throwing him against the wall.   
  
*****  
  
"What was that?" Jack asked, leaning over Sam's shoulder again.  
  
"Sir, please. I can't work with you hovering. I've almost got the controls working. As soon as I do, we'll all know what's going on."  
  
Jack slowly straightened and turned away from Sam. Hearing the sound of footsteps on the stairs he waited.  
  
"Nothing. They still won't open," Daniel said as he joined them. "Any luck up here?"  
  
"Major Carter is endeavoring to regain control of the computer systems. However, I believe she is finding it increasingly difficult due to certain-distractions," Teal'c said.  
  
"Ah," Daniel said as he glanced at Jack. "Jack, maybe you should sit down."  
  
"I can't sit! Not when the general and our men are down there. We don't know what's going on. They could be in trouble. Hell, the doc's down there without a weapon. Because *I* never saw fit to certify him. How the hell is he supposed to defend himself, let alone the general without a weapon?" Jack began to pace across the floor and stopped at the side of the room. His hand slammed into the wall. "Damn it!" Slowly his head dropped forward until it rested on his raised arm.   
  
"I've got it!" came an excited cry. Jack jerked up and ran to Sam's side.  
  
"We in? Get these blast doors open now!"  
  
"Damn! I'm sorry Sir, only the blast barrier against this window is responding," Sam said, as she watched the barrier slowly rise.  
  
"Keep working on it Major!" Jack growled.  
  
The four team mates watched as the blast barrier rose, allowing them their first glimpse into the gateroom. There were no words to express the horror that lay before them. Only silent prayers that amidst the rubble, their friends might still be alive.  
  
*****  
  
"Doctor."  
  
John stirred as the voice penetrated his fuzzy thoughts. But he didn't want to move. To move meant pain, and he'd had enough of pain. Too much too soon in his short life. No, he was fine where he was.   
  
"Dr. Carter!" The voice was insistent.   
  
Unable to ignore the voice any longer, John struggled to control his eyelids. He had to see who was calling to him. Maybe he was dead. Maybe it was God. If he could just get his eyelids to cooperate, he could open them and see the white light. Maybe he'd see Lucy. Jeez he missed her. Missed yelling at her, missed talking to her. Missed kissing her. . .. Hell, maybe he'd see Dennis. Or Bobby! Now that would be something.   
  
"Dr. Carter! I need you to wake up!"  
  
John raised a hand and swatted at the voice like it was a fly buzzing around his head. Hand moves. Not dead. Oh well. Guess it's too late to go back to la-la land. John shifted and suddenly felt an explosion of pain in his head. Moaning quietly, he raised his hand slowly to the source of the pain.  
  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," came the voice. A quiet voice. A muffled voice. It sounded like it was having trouble talking. It sounded like. . .General Hammond!  
  
John's eyes flew open, his hand hovering mid-air. The light flooded his eyes and he groaned once more, shutting them tightly.  
  
"Easy son. Move slowly."  
  
John opened his eyes again and blinked rapidly until the light no longer caused him pain. John concentrated on moving his limbs one at a time. All seemed in working order. Content that he was indeed in one piece and all pieces were in working order, John turned his attention towards the general.  
  
Oh, that was not good. John noted the jagged metal rod that was piercing the older man's chest. Not good at all. Someone should really do something about that. John glanced around the room, and saw the destruction that surrounded him. The gate was still standing, however everything else was in pieces. Where was help? Someone should have come by now. John looked up towards the control room. The blast shield had been raised and he could see people gathered there. Why didn't they come down?  
  
John glanced at General Hammond again. He really needed a doctor. John's head pounded and he closed his eyes, waiting for it to explode and end the pain. Doctor. He was a doctor. John's eyes snapped open and he forced himself to focus. There were bodies everywhere, all covered in some form of rubble or other. No one besides the general was moving though. He'd start with the general.   
  
" . . .Carter." The general was speaking to him again. John looked at him and then raised a hand warily.  
  
"I'm coming over," he rasped. Slowly, he pushed himself to his knees and froze as a wave of dizziness crashed over him. John leaned forward on one hand for balance and pressed the ball of his other hand against his eyes. He could do this. He could handle a little pain. He'd done it before. Just breath, slowly, in-out. Good! John could feel his head start to clear. As he began to move again, he could feel another pain that he hadn't found in his initial assessment of his injuries. His back was seized by a spasm of pain and he gritted his teeth. Nothing new here. Slowly, little by little, he made his way over to the general.  
  
"Good to see you son," the general said, smiling. The smile was replaced by a grimace as he began to cough.  
  
John placed his hand on the general's arm and spoke softly, "Easy there General. In case you didn't notice, you've got a rod sticking out of your chest."  
  
Hammond's coughing quieted and he lifted his hand slightly off the floor, pointing to John's head. "You've got quite the gash there yourself son."  
  
John raised his arm and pressed his sleeve against his forehead. Ouch! Pulling his arm back, he saw that his sleeve was marked by a large bloodstain. Funny, he didn't feel pain there until now.   
  
Turning his attention back to the general he muttered, "I'll live." Looking around him, he tried to find something to wrap around the metal pipe, which was now starting to look an awful lot like a piece of the railing which ran along the sides of the ramp. Finding nothing, he removed his jacket and began to tear it apart. Finally satisfied that he had enough bandages, John folded two and pressed them gently down around the pipe. Then he wrapped several others over those. Satisfied that he had covered the wound enough to prevent infection, John slumped down beside the general.   
  
"Dr. Carter."  
  
What? John's eyes flew open and he looked around wildly. Where was he? The blurry room began to shift into focus and John remembered. The gateroom. Tok'ra madmen. No, wait, not Tok'ra. Some-other, madmen. With a bomb.   
  
"Perhaps you should check on the others, see if anyone else survived." John turned to see the general looking at him.   
  
Others? Oh, the soldiers. They had found three who were still alive before the blast.   
  
" . . . the Tok'ra." The general was talking to him again. Why was it so hard to stay focused? Tok'ra. So they were Tok'ra. Okay, he would check on them too. John slowly got to his feet and made his way towards the ramp. Don't look at the gate. John stumbled as his foot caught on something. Looking down he saw that he'd found one of the Tok'ra. Funny, he didn't recognize this one. John checked for his pulse and found one. He was still breathing, still alive. Remarkably, the man had escaped with nothing more than first degree burns covering his entire backside. Considering what could have happened, John reasoned he was lucky to be alive.   
  
Moving on, John checked on a second Tok'ra. "Not so lucky", John mused as he noted the gray matter imbedded in the man's hair. Just to be sure, John checked again for a pulse. None, nada, zip. Just as he'd expected. John glanced quickly to the top of the ramp and then away. There was no way that one would have survived. Weakly, John turned and started back down the ramp.  
  
"Help me," a voice called out softly.  
  
John froze, confused. There were only three Tok'ra. John's mind tried to remember but remembering only made his head hurt worse. Rather than try and remember, John just accepted that there must have been four. That sounded right. Four Tok'ra madmen. John scanned the room, his eyes finally finding the source of the call.  
  
Against the back wall, under the control window, lay the fourth Tok'ra. John stumbled over and kneeled down next to him. His right arm was definitely broken and laying at an odd angle. John focused as best as he could and saw that the man's eyes were dilated and he couldn't tell John how many fingers he was holding up. John thought that was probably for the best, as he couldn't tell either, and he was the one holding them up. John ran his hands along the man's head and felt some compression along the left side. Skull fracture, probably worse. Failing to find any other external injuries, John examined the man's abdomen. Probable internal damage, but hard to tell with hands which went left when he was telling them to go right. John looked the man in the eye and warned him of the coming pain, before he ran his hands along the broken arm, quickly snapping the bones back into alignment. John splinted the man's arm and made him comfortable against the wall before making his way back to the soldiers.  
  
John checked on the three soldiers who had survived the initial assault. John sighed with relief when he found all three still breathing. The blast probably passed right over their still forms where they lay against the side wall. The majority of the debris had fallen short of them. John glanced at the general who had not been so lucky. John eased himself down and sat with his eyes closed. He began to drift again, only to snap back to awareness at the sound of the general coughing again.  
  
John crawled back over to the general and felt an icy chill creep over him as he saw the blood splatter on the general's face and chest. He was bleeding internally. If someone didn't come soon, he would die. John listened to the raspy breaths and had to hold the general down as yet another coughing fit overwhelmed him. It was obvious that it was growing increasingly difficult for the general to breath, his blood filled lung slowly suffocating him.   
  
John played over his options in his head. Do nothing, watch the general die. Or, he could try and release some of the pressure by draining the blood. Of course, the general might still die. Either way, it didn't seem to make much of a difference at this point. Taking a deep breath, John searched his pockets until he found the Swiss pocket knife. Not regulation issue but John carried it anyway. Lots of nifty gadgets for moments like this. Searching through his pockets again, he cursed as he failed to find the other item he needed. A quick search of the general turned up gold-a ball point pen. Bic. Not his preference, but it would do. Working quickly, John cut away the general's shirt and exposed a rapidly bruising chest. A small incision, and the homemade shunt was in place. John grimaced as the collecting blood drained out but was relieved when the general began to breath easier. John said a small prayer to the powers that be, that the general didn't succumb to an infection or worse on account of his handiwork. Please Janet-I need you! As the flow of blood ebbed, John covered the end of the pen with his finger and settled down next to the general for the duration.  
  
*****  
  
Janet stood outside the blast doors, her teams ready and waiting. Her heart skipped a beat when the door began to slide open.  
  
"Thank you Sam," she murmured as she rushed through the door. "Now, just let there be someone left alive to help," she added to herself.  
  
The teams scattered through the room until finally, all survivors were loaded onto gurneys and transported to the infirmary. Lastly, the dead were collected and taken to wait their turn in the morgue.  
  
Once the medics had cleared the room, it began to fill with SGC personnel. In silent vigil, the cleanup began.  



	14. SOSN14

*See Part Zero/ one for disclaimers.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you're still reading this-thank you! I think I was intimidated by all the medical mumbo jumbo I would have to include in this chapter and just plain ol' avoided it. =S After getting continued feedback wondering where the next part is, I finally felt bad enough to get to work and give it to you. So here it is-I hope you enjoy it as much as the previous chapters. It's been a long time since I've worked on this story and I've since developed different writing styles in other fandoms. Hopefully, I've continued with the right 'tone' for this. Enjoy!  
  
I LOVE FEEDBACK! Voria@charter.net  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part 14  
By: Victoria May  
  
"I need a foley line over here!"  
  
"Someone get me a new nasal canula!"  
  
"Is that O2? I need that over here, now!"  
  
"Lieutenant, take this soldier down for an MRI and a CAT scan stat!"  
  
Ignoring the motion and noise around her, Janet brushed hastily at a lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes, as she leaned over one of the surviving Tok'ra and shined her penlight into his eyes.   
  
"Pupils fixed and dilated. This man has a skull fracture with a four centimeter compression and possible edema. I need this man taken to surgery and prepped!"  
  
Lieutenant Bryce hesitated before moving the saline line to the bed.   
  
"Problem Lieutenant?" Janet asked as she did a final check of the surrounding monitors and making a mark in the chart.  
  
"Ma'am, this man is a Tok'ra, isn't he?" the nurse asked as she settled the small cardiac monitor onto the bed.  
  
With an efficiency known well by doctors, Janet tossed the chart onto the bed and began to disconnect the other monitors-reconnecting them to the small battery powered models attached to the bed, and gave the bed a giant push towards the door.  
  
"Yes, Lieutenant, he is. However, he also has a large compression in his skull putting pressure on his brain. Even a goa'uld symbiote needs help once in a while. Why don't we give this man a fighting chance and make it easier for the symbiote to do its job? Hmmn?" Janet replied, turning away dismissively.  
  
Janet pulled back the curtain to the next bed where the only other surviving Tok'ra lay quietly on his stomach. His clothes had been cut off and were lying in a heap on the floor next to the bed. Glaring red burns intermingled with chalky white patches on the man's back, from head to knees, in varying intensities. The worst burns were on his scalp and upper back-the areas that received full exposure to the blast. Jagged cuts lay amongst oozing blisters. Janet watched as dead skin was carefully scrubbed away, revealing raw tissue below. If this were anyone else-a human, one of the soldiers or even Dr. Carter or General Hammond, death would be a sure thing.   
  
"Doctor?" the young nurse said, drawing Janet's attention away from her grim thoughts.   
  
Janet fingered the IV line running into the Tok'ra's arm. "Continue to run the Ringer's solution. Page surgery as soon as his urine output is 30cc's-this man needs a graft as soon as possible. When you're finished debriding his wounds, apply Silvadine and a light dressing. Page me immediately if there is any sign of infection."  
  
"Yes Ma'am," came a crisp reply.   
  
"Lieutenant Ramsey, I need a status report on Captain Wilson and Sergeant Collins," Janet instructed the tall nurse as he made his way past.   
  
"Yes Ma'am," Ramsey replied, stopping next to her. "Captain Wilson is stable with a normal sinus rhythm. Pulse-ox is normal. CAT scan was normal. No sign of head trauma. A few minor lacerations to his face and hands, which were exposed during the explosion, but, as I said, they are minor and should heal on their own. He's fine.  
  
"Sergeant Collins hasn't regained consciousness yet. While there were no outward signs of head or even internal injury, I sent him down for an MRI to see if there are any other reasons to explain why he's still unconscious. He was hypotensive and bradycardic when first brought in, but that seems to have corrected itself and his EKG is normal. At this point, we're just waiting for him to wake up."  
  
"It does seem that the effects of the aliens' weapons are similar to those of a Zatnikotel. Run the MRI and let me know if there are any unusual results," Janet ordered.  
  
"Yes Ma'am," the nurse replied before continuing on his way.   
  
Janet turned and swept her gaze over her infirmary. Everyone had been triaged and all were receiving the treatment they need. Janet slowly let out a breath and turned to go to her office, when a rumpled officer slipped into the infirmary.  
  
"Colonel," Janet greeted as she neared the weary officer.  
  
"Doctor," he replied as he glanced into the infirmary, his eyes taking in the patients one by one. "General Hammond?" he asked, as he slumped against the wall.   
  
"In surgery at the moment. I haven't had a chance to check on his progress yet. I'm sorry Colonel," Janet said as she lay her hand on Jack's arm.   
  
"How are you holding up?" she asked, eyeing him critically.   
  
"Fine, fine," he mumbled. "Busy. You know, gotta keep the base running and all that."  
  
"I see. I think a break is called for right about now Colonel," Janet said, leaning closer to the exhausted man. Dark circles were forming under his eyes and lines of tension crinkled along his forehead, signaling the headache he had tried to avoid mentioning.   
  
"Nah, I'm fine. I'll grab a cup of joe and be right as rain."  
  
"That wasn't a suggestion Colonel. I can't have the acting commander of this base collapsing from low blood sugar," Janet reprimanded.  
  
Holding up a hand to stop the lecture he could see brewing, he quickly agreed. "You're right. I'll just go grab a bite to eat; sit down for a bit in the commissary."  
  
"And to make sure you do, I'm going to call Teal'c and have him come and escort you." Janet turned her back and picked up the phone on the wall next to the door. After talking for a minute, she replaced the receiver and turned back to Jack.  
  
"He's on his way."  
  
"Thank you Commandant Frasier," Jack retorted sarcastically. Holding his hands up in supplication he quickly said, "Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean that. I'm just a bit . . ."  
  
"Frazzled?" Janet prompted.  
  
Jack ran his hands through his increasingly gray hair and cocked a finger at Janet. "That," he said nodding.   
  
"Don't worry Colonel. I understand. I'm worried too. But for now, there's nothing you can do. This base needs you right now Colonel-I know it's not the best time to find yourself in charge, but you are. Everyone's going to be looking to you for guidance. If you fall apart, what are they supposed to do?"   
  
Janet paused for a moment before continuing, her voice low. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here. Anytime Colonel."  
  
"Thanks. Really. I might just take you up on that," Jack said as Teal'c entered the infirmary, followed by Daniel.   
  
"Doctor Frasier," Teal'c greeted, bowing his head.  
  
"Janet, how's John?" Daniel asked stepping forward.  
  
Sighing, Janet nodded her head towards her office. "Why don't we go in my office and I'll tell you what I know," Janet said.  
  
The three men followed Janet silently into her office, Jack and Daniel dropping into chairs in front of the desk while Teal'c stood stoically near the door.   
  
"Doctor Carter was conscious when he was brought to the infirmary. However, there were signs of a serious head injury. He displayed confusion when asked what happened and could not identify where he was. His pupils failed to respond normally to stimuli. There was loss of coordination and balance. He suffered one seizure before losing consciousness. At the moment he's scheduled for an MRI and a head CT."  
  
"Wait a minute!" Jack interrupted. "He wasn't that bad off-he saved those men in there. He saved General Hammond! Now you're telling me that he's in serious condition? How did that happen?" Jack demanded.  
  
"Colonel, if you would just sit down and let me finish I'll try and answer your questions," Janet said, her hands raised.  
  
Jack looked around and realized that during his rant, he had jumped from his chair and was now looming over the doctor. Slumping back into the chair, he indicated for her to continue.  
  
"It's obvious that Doctor Carter suffered a severe concussion. What we're trying to determine now, is the extent of damage to his brain. Depending on the damage, we'll treat him with drugs to reduce any swelling and stop any potential bleeding. Surgery may be necessary. I won't know until I have his test results back. I'm sorry Colonel, but with a head injury, there may be any number of complications. He may slip into a coma. He may wake up any minute and ask what the heck is going on."  
  
"Or he could die," Daniel stated quietly.  
  
"Yes Daniel. He might die. There is always that risk with any major head injury. But we don't know if we even need to be worrying about that right now. Right now we need to have good thoughts. Both John and General Hammond are going to need our encouragement and support during their recoveries. Don't assume the worst," Janet said gently, her gaze directed at Daniel.  
  
"Of course. I know that," Daniel said, dropping his head.  
  
"Are you alright Daniel?" Janet asked.  
  
"Why wouldn't I be? I wasn't affected by the blast," Daniel retorted.  
  
"Hey! We're all worried. Don't take it out on the Doc," Jack snapped.  
  
Daniel's head dropped even lower as he pushed himself out of his chair. "I'm sorry. I'm just going to go . . ." Daniel's hand flailed about as he searched for the words for what he was going to do. "I'm just going to go," he finally said.   
  
"Oh for crying out loud," Jack said as he jumped out of his own chair to follow his upset linguist. Calling back to Janet he said, "Let me know when you know something."  
  
Janet sat back in her chair as Teal'c bowed and backed out of the office. 'Dear Lord, let there be good news soon,' she prayed.   
  
*****  
  
"Hey, isn't this the new doctor?" Ramirez asked as the unconscious man was loaded onto the gurney for transport.  
  
"Where have you been Ramirez? The moon?" Ramsey asked the small tech as he attached the doctor to the monitors.   
  
"I just came on duty-what's going on?" the young Latina tech asked as she retrieved the scan results from the now off-duty technician.   
  
"Shit!" she exclaimed glancing at the charts. "Get him back up to the infirmary stat! He's got a major hemorrhage as well as edema!"  
  
The tech placed the charts on the gurney as Ramsey and an orderly began to push the bed out of the room. The body on the bed began to convulse and Ramsey jerked the transport to a stop.  
  
"He's seizing!" The nurse rushed to the head of the gurney and did his best to protect John's head from impacting with the side rails. "Hold him!" he cried out to the orderly. Ramirez jumped forward to hold him from the other side. Finally, the convulsions stopped and Ramsey leaned forward.   
  
"He's not breathing! I'm bagging him! Ramirez, get Frasier on the phone and tell her what's going on! We'll be there in thirty!" the nurse called out as he ran along with the gurney towards the infirmary, pumping oxygen into starving lungs.  
  
Ramirez hung up the phone with a shaking hand and turned towards the other tech. "What the hell is going on?"  
  
"Let me help you get the Lieutenant situated for his scan and I'll explain," the older technician offered as he moved towards Collins.  
  
Together they moved the still unconscious man to the MRI machine and watched as he was pulled into the machine.  
  
Closing the door between the MRI room and the control room, he turned to Ramirez. "We had a breach this morning. Three aliens came through the gate pretending to be Tok'ra and shot up the embarkation room. They ignited a bomb just after the real Tok'ra came through the gate. The new doctor and General Hammond were both injured."  
  
"General Hammond?" the young tech gasped in surprise.   
  
"He's alive. Doctor Carter saved his life, or so I've heard. Performed a thoracotomy right there in the destroyed gateroom. They were trapped in there for almost an hour before SG1 was able to get the blast doors open. O'Connell and Janson didn't make it. Two Tok'ra died from the blast."  
  
Ramirez stared at the other tech in horror, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. "O'Connell? Lieutenant O'Connell? Michael?"  
  
"Shit Ramirez-you weren't," the older tech said, stopping himself as he saw the pain in his friend's eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't know," he said pulling her into a hug.  
  
"Nobody knew. We didn't want everyone to start talking. You know how it is around here," Ramirez said as tears slid down her cheeks. "We were going to get married," she whispered.   
  
"Damn Deanna," she heard as the hug tightened and then she was released.   
  
Wiping quickly at her eyes, she agreed, "Yeah damn." Turning away, she slammed her palm onto the wall.   
  
"Dammit!" her cry echoed throughout the silent halls.  
  
*****  
  
"Carter, I need a status report on the gate," Jack ordered as he entered the control room.   
  
"The gate appears fully functional Sir," Sam responded, turning away from her keyboard.   
  
"Good, that's good. And the iris?" Jack queried.   
  
"The iris sustained minimal damage in the blast. We were able to shut it and I have techs clearing the crevices of debris. I want to make sure that when we open it again, we'll be able to get it shut." Sam stopped and looked at Jack, who was leaning back against the wall with his eyes shut.  
  
"Are you alright Sir?"  
  
"Just peachy Major," Jack responded, cracking one eye open. "You?"  
  
Sam smiled weakly, "Same here Colonel."  
  
Jack folded his arms across his chest and leaned his head back, opening both eyes. "You take a break any time recently?" he asked his first officer.  
  
"I couldn't," Sam answered honestly. "I was afraid that if I stopped working-if I gave myself time to think, that it will all come crashing home and it will be real." Sam stopped and looked down. "I wasn't ready for that yet."  
  
"I understand Major," Jack said quietly. "But you need to take a break. You're still recovering from a pretty serious injury yourself. I know Frasier said bed rest wasn't needed, but I don't think she meant working non-stop with no breaks. I can't have you taking a nose dive on me-I need you," Jack admitted quietly.  
  
"You've got me Sir. I won't let you down. I promise. I almost have the gate ready to go, and when I do, I want to contact the Tok'ra-Dad, and find out what happened."  
  
"With my blessings, but after you take a break," Jack chided as he ushered Sam towards the door. "And while you're out there, check on Daniel for me. He darted off somewhere and I can't find him."  
  
"And you think I can?" Sam asked.  
  
"Yes! You're both geeks-where do geeks go to hide? Use that noggin of yours and find my archeologist!" Jack said flipping his hands towards her.   
  
Rolling her eyes, Sam started off down the hall, a small smile playing at her lips. Now where would Daniel be? Well, she wasn't working, but she wasn't sitting around worrying about the General or John either. She had to hand it to the Colonel, he may not be a bleeding heart, but he knew how to take care of his people. But who was he calling a geek?  
  
*****  
  
Teal'c cocked his head as he neared the closed door, listening to the muffled curses and thumps from within the room. Raising his eyebrows at one expletive, he raised his hand to knock. Receiving no answer, he turned the door handle and pushed open the large metal door.   
  
"Daniel Jackson," he stated calmly. His presence went ignored as Daniel continued to riffle through the books on his shelves, pulling them open only to slam them shut moments later, dropping the books carelessly onto the floor.   
  
Concerned, Teal'c tried again. "Daniel Jackson; I seek your attention!"   
  
Daniel turned and glanced at Teal'c, but continued on his quest to litter the floor with his entire collection of reference books. His motions were jerky and it appeared that he was not truly looking at the words within the books. Teal'c frowned as one book landed, its spine splitting as aged papers fluttered out and away. Daniel just ignored the damage and continued his erratic behavior.  
  
The Jaffa had seen enough and would not tolerate any further damage to the sacred writings that meant so much to his friend.  
  
"Kree!" he called out, his voice strong and commanding.  
  
Daniel froze, a book in his hands.   
  
Teal'c strode forward and took the book from Daniel. "You must cease this behavior! It is," Teal'c paused as he searched for an appropriate word. "Unbecoming," he finally settled on, "for a scholar such as you. You must desist immediately."  
  
Teal'c grasped Daniel's arms and lead him to a stool. "Sit!" he commanded. Daniel sat, too stunned to do anything but.   
  
"You will explain this behavior," he implored.  
  
Daniel blinked and looked around the trashed room. Then he looked at Teal'c, looming over him, a no-nonsense look on his stern face.  
  
Feeling as though he were a child being chastised, he indignantly replied, "Uh, I was working Teal'c. You know-work. That is why I'm here. It's what I get paid to do." As Teal'c's look grew darker, he said quickly, "I needed to find a reference for a translation I'm working on. I've got a backlog of translations waiting for me and I thought I would try and get caught up. Is that alright with you?" he asked derisively.  
  
"No, it is not," Teal'c replied seriously.  
  
"Oh," Daniel said, unsure how to proceed. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he asked, "Um, and why not?"  
  
"You are upset. You will be further upset when you, see, what you have done," Teal'c stated.  
  
"When I see . . ." Daniel looked around the room, finally realizing what he had been doing. Seeing the damage he had done. "Oh. See."  
  
"I guess I am-upset, that is," Daniel said fidgeting on the stool.  
  
"Indeed," Teal'c agreed. "I too am upset that a great leader such as General Hammond and a strong healer such as John Carter have been grievously injured."  
  
"You, you are?" Daniel asked, surprised that Teal'c would confess this to him.   
  
"Yes," Teal'c said, bowing his head. "They are important to the Tau'ri of whom I have pledged my allegiance. They are needed to lead the great battle and to heal the warriors to fight once again."  
  
Daniel's face dropped in disappointment. "Oh, that makes sense," he agreed disheartened.   
  
Teal'c noticed the look on his friend's face and saw that he did not understand. Placing his closed fist over his heart, he said, "I grieve because my brothers have fallen. I have engaged in Kel'nor'eem in hopes of communing with the spirits of this world to ask for swift healing and return to good health."  
  
"You prayed? I didn't know you pray," Daniel said, intrigued. "What spirits were you praying to?" he asked.  
  
"I do not know what this 'pray' is. But there are many spirits known by your people. Do you not commune with the spirits Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asked.  
  
Daniel dropped his head. "Not for many years."  
  
"Your altar intrigued me-if you do not worship the goa'uld, whom do you worship? I have conversed with many of the Tau'ri warriors and have gotten many different answers."  
  
Daniel tilted his head, confused. "Altar? Oh! You mean the chapel. Many different religions worship there."  
  
"Many of the warriors spoke of a 'peace' they feel when they commune with the spirits. Perhaps you too will know this 'peace' if you commune with the spirits." Teal'c stepped back and swept his arm towards the door. "I will accompany you."  
  
"Um, I don't think so Teal'c. You go ahead. I'm just going to clean up a bit and maybe head down to the infirmary to see how the General and John are."  
  
"Have the spirits angered you that you turn away?"   
  
"Nooo," Daniel said slowly. "I just don't believe in the spirits-not any more," he added.  
  
"Perhaps, it is time for you seek them out. Will it damage you?" Teal'c asked.   
  
"I think you mean, 'what will it hurt', Teal'c," a voice said from the door.   
  
"Sam," Daniel acknowledged, seeing his friend enter.  
  
"Major Carter," Teal'c greeted.  
  
"What will it hurt Daniel? I think we could all use some divine intervention right about now," Sam coaxed, having heard the tail end of the conversation from the hallway.  
  
"I don't think so," Daniel said backing away.  
  
Sam walked forward until she was standing next to Daniel. Reaching out, she lay her hand on his arm. "Please Daniel. Come with us. You don't have to do anything-but, I really need to be with friends right now."  
  
Daniel looked at Teal'c and then at Sam. Friends. These were his friends. He needed them right now as much as Sam needed him. He didn't want to think about losing another friend-another father figure. But his friends needed him and he would be there for them.  
  
"Okay," he agreed as he wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulders. "I'll go commune with the spirits."  
  
Teal'c bowed his head as he followed his friends from the room. "You have made a wise decision Daniel Jackson."  
  
"It can't hurt," was the faint reply as the trio moved away from the door.  
  
*****  
  
"Doctor Frasier, what the hell's going on?" Jack demanded as he stalked into the petite doctor's office.  
  
Janet turned to him and glared, before addressing the nurse in front of her. "If he refuses a skin graft, just continue the treatment we've already laid out. Continue to cleanse the damaged areas and reapply the Silvadine. I suppose he's refusing the enterol feedings as well? Fine. Have a high calorie, high protein meal prepared and make him eat it. I'm ordering a vitamin injection and don't take no for an answer. Prepare the second half of the Ringer's solution and he's getting it whether he wants it or not! Dismissed." Janet sank into her chair and rubbed her eyes. "Stubborn Tok'ra-make worse patients than the SG units; do they really think letting the symbiote do all the work is helping them?"  
  
"Uh, Doc?" Jack interrupted.   
  
"Sorry Colonel, I'm just incredibly frustrated," Janet apologized.   
  
"I see that. Sorry about barging in here like that," Jack said meekly.  
  
"It's alright. I think we all need a break right about now. I suppose you want to know about the General?"  
  
"Among other things, yes," Jack replied, sitting down. "Why is he in an iso room? I talked to Warner an hour ago and he assured me the surgery was a success."  
  
Janet sighed. "It was. Doctor Warner was able to repair the damage from the pipe that impaled the general. He had a hemopneumothorax which had to be drained and repaired." Janet stopped when she noticed Jack's glazed look. "A collapsed lung, Sir."  
  
"Ah," Jack said motioning her to continue.   
  
"There was blood and air in the pleura-the lining around the lung," she quickly explained.   
  
"But that was fixed," Jack asked.  
  
"Yes. But any damage done to the chest cavity carries a chance of infection setting in. In General Hammond's case, it did. He's septic. I have him on strong intravenous antibiotics. He's intubated to ease the strain on his damaged lung. We have him in isolation to reduce the chance of further infection setting in."  
  
"What are his chances?" Jack asked, rubbing his face with both hands.  
  
"It's wait and see right now Colonel. I don't have any guarantees for you. It could go either way."  
  
"Right. That's encouraging. Thank you."  
  
"Colonel, check back in two hours. I should see some change by then. Hopefully I'll have better news for you."  
  
Jack didn't get up, but instead leaned forward. "And Doctor Carter? How's he doing?"  
  
"Not good. He has an intracerebral hemorrhage-bleeding in his brain. This has caused cerebral edema-swelling Colonel. This is putting a large amount of pressure on his brain. I'm treating him with corticosteroids and diuretics to reduce the swelling and anticonvulsants to control the seizures. Surgery may be necessary, however there has already been a reduction in the swelling and I don't think that will be necessary."  
  
"But?" Jack prompted, sensing the doctor was leaving something important out.   
  
"Doctor Carter has fallen into a coma." At Jack's stunned look she hurried on. "That in itself is not that uncommon for a head injury this severe. However, until he wakes up, I won't know the extent of the damage that has been done."  
  
"What damage?" Jack asked, not really wanting to know the answer. This day was just getting better and better.  
  
"Loss of memory. Loss of the ability to speak or understand language. Loss of mobility and coordination. There is a small chance he may not wake up at all."  
  
"That is not going to happen!" Jack growled.  
  
"Colonel. These are all hypothetical. Like I said. I won't know anything until the swelling goes down and he wakes up. Let's not jump to the worse case scenario," Janet said.  
  
"Fine, fine. What's the status of the airmen caught in the blast and the Tok'ra who came through the gate?"  
  
"Two Tok'ra were killed outright by the blast, but you know that already. Of the two surviving Tok'ra, one died in surgery. There was nothing anyone could do. Like Doctor Carter, he suffered an intracerebral hemorrhage, only in this case the damage done to the skull and to the brain itself was too severe to repair." Janet paused and looked at the Colonel, unsure how to proceed.  
  
"Colonel. We have the Tok'ra symbiote in the lab. We need to make contact with the Tok'ra home world as soon as possible, or the symbiote will die."  
  
"I've sent a message Doctor. I don't know what's going on and I'd really like some answers to this whole mess. I'm really beginning to like the Tok'ra less and less. We've got their people here-dying! And where are they?"  
  
"I'm sure they've got a good reason for not responding Sir," Janet said.  
  
"Right," Jack drawled. "The other Tok'ra?" he asked, getting back to business.   
  
"The other Tok'ra suffered second degree burns across his back, scalp and upper arms. We've treated as best as we can. He's refusing a skin graft, which is the recommended treatment at this stage. I can not force him to have one, but I have made it quite clear that any other treatment is needed and will be received."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure that went over well," Jack sniggered.  
  
"As you can imagine. Anyway, with his symbiote's help, I'm sure in time he'll make a full recovery. As for the airmen who survived the initial assault, they are all conscious and eager to return to work. Apparently, the guns the Menax used were similar to Zatnikotels. It disrupted the normal activity of the heart, however once the effects of the gun wore off their sinus rhythms returned to normal. Sergeant Collins was unconscious for quite some time. I've ordered them to remain in the infirmary overnight-I'd like to continue to monitor their heart functions, just to be sure there are no lingering effects. If there are no problems, I'll be releasing them in the morning."  
  
"Well, that's good news at least," Jack muttered.  
  
Janet looked at her current commanding officer and saw the toll of the day in his eyes.  
  
"Colonel. Why don't you go and have some dinner? You need a break." As Jack opened his mouth to protest, Janet quickly said, "It's not an order this time, just advice from a friend. You look like you're ready to fall over. You've done well Colonel. Give yourself a break."  
  
"A break. Sure, I guess I can manage that. I'll just go find my kids and see what they're up to," Jack said, pointing at the door.  
  
"I think that's a great idea Colonel," Janet said to his retreating back as she sagged back into her chair. "A break would be nice right about now . . .."  
  
TBC  
(We're getting near the end-really! And I PROMISE to keep writing until this saga is finished!) 


	15. SOSN15

*See Part One for disclaimers.  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part 15  
By: Victoria May  
  
"Doctor, I think he's waking up!" Ramsey's voice echoed through the quiet infirmary.   
  
Janet pushed the chart she had been reviewing into the hands of the waiting nurse. Pulling her stethoscope from her neck, she hurried to the bedside of her comatose patient.   
  
"Stats?" she demanded as she pulled John's gown down, baring his chest. Laying the soft diaphragm against John's chest, she listened intently for several seconds. Apparently satisfied, she draped the instrument over her neck and reached into her pocket for a penlight. Lifting first one eyelid, then the other, she shined the light into the exposed pupils and watched the reaction. Janet dropped the penlight back into her pocket and straightened, focusing her attention on Ramsey.  
  
"Blood pressure is a little low, 115 over 64. Pulse ox is normal. Breath sounds are normal. EKG is normal," Ramsey reported.  
  
Janet nodded and leaned over her patient. "John? Can you hear me?" When she received no response, Janet moved to the foot of the bed and exposed John's foot. Unclipping her pen from her pocket, she ran it over the exposed arch and smiled when the foot recoiled. Encouraged, Janet returned to the head of the bed.  
  
"John! Dr. Carter!" Janet took hold of John's hand and gave another command, "John, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand." A small pressure on her hand answered and Janet smiled broadly. "Good John. Can you open your eyes for me?" she pushed.  
  
The pale eyelids fluttered for a second before slowly opening. "Welcome back John," Janet greeted warmly.  
  
John could hear his name being called, the sound echoing as though under water. He struggled to listen, but heard only what sounded like gibberish in higher, then lower tones. His frustration grew as he tried to focus long enough to make sense of the pulsing in his ears. He jerked, his foot curling as something dragged across his arch. He tried to move his foot again, but gave up when nothing happened.   
  
"John!" His name again, this time clearer. "Dr. Carter!" I can hear you! John wanted to answer but his lips wouldn't move. Soft heat wrapped around his still hand and John tried to move, to connect to the warmth. "John, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand." John's hand jerked in response, tightening into the warmth. "Good John. Can you open your eyes for me?" Still clutching at his only lifeline, John concentrated on his heavy eyelids. Almost succeeding, his lids fluttered but refused to open. Determined, John pulled against the heavy force keeping his lids from opening, immediately regretting the action as bright light hit his sensitive pupils momentarily blinding him. "Welcome back John."  
  
John tried to turn towards the gentle voice, only succeeding in the slightest of movements. "J jann," he slurred, trying to respond.   
  
"Yes, Janet. That's my name. Do you know your name?" Janet asked, still holding John's hand.  
  
John struggled to stay awake, his eyelids growing heavy once again. You know my name Janet, he wanted to retort, but his lips refused to move. Deciding that the easiest answer was also the shortest, John focused on his traitorous lips. "onnn," he finally managed, cursing his inability to form even his own name. "J . . . ohhn," he tried again, his lips twitching at his success.  
  
"That's good," Janet encouraged. Pulling her penlight out again, she directed, "John, I want you to follow the light with your eyes." Satisfied that his eyes were focused and tracking, Janet slipped the light back into her pocket. When she looked at John again, his eyes were closed.  
  
"John?"   
  
John's eyes snapped open and focused on Janet.  
  
"One more question John, then you can go to sleep, okay?" Janet directed. At John's faint nod, she continued. "Can you tell me where you are?"  
  
John flicked his eyes to the side and realized that a nurse stood at the side of the bed. Wonder how long he's been there, John thought tiredly. He could feel his eyes slipping closed again when he remembered the question. "Hosp'al?" he guessed.  
  
Janet frowned and patted his lax hand. "Go ahead and go to sleep John. I'll see you in a bit," Janet replied. Turning to Ramsey, she said, "GCS of 13. I'm a little concerned that he didn't remember being in the SGC, but we'll see if he's more cognizant when he's a bit more awake. For now, I'd like another MRI to see how the swelling is coming along. Then, keep monitoring his vitals and alert me the minute he's awake again."  
  
Ramsey nodded and continued making notations into John's chart. Satisfied that John was indeed on the mend, Janet excused herself and slipped into her office to call the Colonel.  
  
*****  
  
Sam sat hunched over her computer, replaying the previous day's events recorded by the security cameras in the gate-room. She captured and enlarged a picture of the explosive that had caused the immense destruction. It was unlike anything she had ever seen.   
  
The device was small, with glowing rings of light over its surface. Five rings in all, in a bulls-eye pattern. In the middle lay a single crystal, a deep magenta color. Only two of the outer rings were lit at the time of the still grab, but as Sam reviewed the tape, she could see that the rings lit in succession, counting down until the final explosion.  
  
Squinting, Sam noticed what appeared to be writing on each of the rings. It was so faint, she had overlooked it at first, attributing it to distortion. But now that she was looking closer, it did indeed look like writing. Sam jumped as a sharp rap, followed by her door swinging open broke her attention.   
  
"Airman, since when do you enter without permission . . ." Sam spun her stool around to confront whatever unfortunate airman dared to disturb her work, trailing off when she her eyes settled on Daniel's surprised face.  
  
Daniel frowned and pulled the sleeve of his jacket forward so he could see it better. Shrugging, he commented matter-of-factly, "Not an airman. And I did knock. But, if you want, I could go back out and wait for permission to enter." Daniel waited, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.  
  
Sam smiled in return and leaned against the back of her high stool. "No, I don't think that will be necessary-this time," she teased. "Come on in Daniel."   
  
Still hovering near the doorway, Daniel looked uncertain. "Are you sure, because I can leave and come back later," he offered.  
  
"Actually, you're just the man I need to see," Sam answered turning back to her computer.  
  
"Okaayy." Daniel shuffled into the room, closing the door behind him. "What's going on?"  
  
"Just a minute," Sam held up a finger as she continued to tap away at her computer one handed. "There!" Next to her, the large printer hummed and fed out a picture. "What do you make of this?" she asked as she handed Daniel a printout of the explosive.  
  
Daniel adjusted his glasses and peered at the picture. "Well, it isn't Goa'uld-at least, it's unlike anything Goa'uld that we've come across yet. And I don't believe it's Tollan, however I could be wrong, as they've never actually shared any of their technology with us. But it isn't Tollan writing. The Asgaard have this level of technology, but . . ."  
  
"But it's not Asgaard writing," Sam finished for him.   
  
"Right," Daniel agreed, shrugging sheepishly.  
  
Sam sighed before gesturing at the photo. "Do you recognize the writing at all? Is it related to any writing you've ever come across?"  
  
Squinting at the photo, Daniel shook his head. "I'm sorry. I don't recognize it. But maybe the Tok'ra or the Asgaard will. Have you had any luck getting a hold of Jacob?"  
  
"No, and I'm getting worried. The Menax used the Tok'ra's code to gain access to Earth. What if something happened to them?" Sam buried her face in her hands.  
  
Daniel dropped the photo onto the worktable and moved to stand next to Sam. Laying his hand on her shoulder, he said, "Hey, we don't know if anything happened to your dad, okay? Think positive thoughts. The Tok'ra who came through the gate would have said something by now if the Tok'ra base had been infiltrated."  
  
Sam lifted her head and looked at up at Daniel. Smiling weakly, she patted the hand on her shoulder. "Thanks Daniel. I needed to hear that. I'm going to go back down to the control room and try to contact Dad again."  
  
Daniel nodded and picked up the photo. "Can I take this? I'll see if I can find anything that matches any of these symbols."  
  
Sam nodded and slid off her stool. "I'll hold off on contacting the Asgaard until the Colonel's had a chance to debrief the surviving Tok'ra."  
  
As the pair entered the hallway, Daniel paused and said quietly, "I'm sure he's fine."  
  
Sam pulled Daniel down into a quick hug, releasing him before he could protest. "Thanks," she said as she moved away.  
  
*****  
  
"Major," Jack acknowledge the slender, brunette representative of the Pentagon.   
  
"Colonel, Sir," Major Davis saluted Jack and followed him into the conference room. "If there's anything you need . . ."  
  
"I'll let you know," Jack interrupted.   
  
"How is General Hammond?" Davis inquired as he set his brief case on the table.  
  
"Getting better by the minute," Jack answered quickly. "In fact, he'll probably be back behind his desk in another week . . . or two," Jack added under his breath.  
  
"So, you don't think it will be necessary to assign someone temporary command while the General recovers?" Davis questioned.  
  
"No, I don't." Jack moved to the head of the table and began to riffle through his own papers. "As second in command of this base, I am fully capable of seeing to the everyday operations while the general recovers. General Hammond will be accessible during his recovery if necessary-although it won't be."  
  
Major Davis slid into his seat and folded his hands in front of him. "I agree."  
  
"Now listen here," Jack started before the Major's words absorbed. "You agree?" he echoed.  
  
"Yes. I've seen how closely you work with General Hammond. I'm not questioning your ability to fill in while the general recovers. Unless, there's some reason for me to be concerned?" Davis asked, turning his full attention to Jack.  
  
"No! No. No reason for concern. I'm just not used to such a show of . . . support."  
  
Davis laughed and shook his head. "I'm on your side Colonel. You forget that I've been here and have seen you in action. You're all heroes in my book. As long as I'm confident that the SGC is not a threat to the safety of this country-of this planet, you have nothing to worry about."  
  
Jack sank into his chair. "Good. That's good," he commented blithely.   
  
Davis leaned forward in his chair and replaced his lighthearted expression with one more dire. "So convince me the SGC isn't a threat right now Colonel."  
  
Right to business. Jack liked that about the major, although he was loath to admit it. The man may represent the Pentagon and stuffed suits, but he was faithful to the SGC. He was one of the good guys.  
  
"I haven't been able to debrief the one surviving Tok'ra operative yet. He was injured and has been undergoing his own recovery. I can not say how it happened, but the aliens who infiltrated the base had managed to obtain the Tok'ra's access code. The aliens, who identified themselves as a race called the Menax, sent a call for help, claiming to be injured. They had the code and were allowed through."  
  
The major looked surprised. "I thought two Tok'ra survived."  
  
"Well, yes, technically. But only one host. We have the other Tok'ra-the symbiote, in the infirmary. We're trying to contact the Tok'ra so they can retrieve it before it dies," Jack explained.  
  
"I see." Davis tapped his pen on the table. "Returning to the matter at hand, when did you realize that they weren't Tok'ra?"  
  
Jack sighed and rubbed his forehead. "At the time, I had no idea they weren't Tok'ra. The aliens-the Menax had somehow accessed control of the gate-room functions. They sealed us out and blocked any communications almost immediately. It wasn't until after we were able to gain access to the gate-room and question the soldiers within that we were able to determine that it was a hostile race that had come through."  
  
"And what happened to the Menax?" Davis questioned.  
  
"I don't know," Jack admitted. "I can only assume they found a way to escape before the blast."  
  
"I see." Davis sat back in his chair warily. "Are you sure they're not still on the base?"  
  
"As sure as we're capable of being. They weren't in the gate-room when we got the door open. There was no where else for them to go except back through the gate somehow."  
  
"I'm willing to accept that, being as Earth is somewhat limited in its abilities to determine alien possession-not all of them show up on an x-ray." Davis crossed his legs and scribbled something on his notepad. "So, what did the Menax want?"  
  
"The coordinates to Kheb," Jack answered.  
  
"Really? That's interesting. It seems to be a popular place these days. You're sure the Harcesis is no longer on Kheb?"  
  
"I know that the alien life form, Oma Desala, took the Harcesis from Kheb. Maybe they went back. Maybe word got around about the Harcesis and they want a piece of the action. Until recently, the existence of Kheb was a myth. If there's anything else there, we didn't get a chance to see it."  
  
Jack sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. Kheb. It had to be Kheb. Jack remembered how happy Daniel had been when they found the child-Sha're's child. And the pain in his friend's eyes when he let the child go again. Wasn't that enough of a sacrifice? Must he now endure the pain of knowing the child is being hunted by a race far more advanced than our own?  
  
"Fair enough Colonel." Davis' voice cut through Jack's melancholy thoughts. "One last question before we interview the Tok'ra operative."  
  
Jack's eyes narrowed at the 'we', but he knew when to keep his mouth shut. "Shoot."  
  
"Is the gate operational?"  
  
"The gate is operational, however we are at a full shutdown for the moment. I have our techs running as many diagnostics on it as they can think up. The gate itself doesn't seem to be damaged. We're more concerned that the shield may have obtained damage, or that shrapnel may have gotten into the nooks and crannies. We are also, of course, concerned about security. I have postponed any scheduled missions for the time being, and there are no teams off-world. After we debrief the Tok'ra, we will change the code and he will convey it to the Tok'ra base."  
  
Davis finished making notations on his paper and looked up. "Thank you Colonel. You have been very informative. Depending on what the Tok'ra operative has to say, I will be making a favorable report to the Pentagon."  
  
"Peachy," Jack retorted before he could stop himself. He couldn't help it. Any mention of the brass and suits and he got snarky. Luckily, Davis just smiled a bit and turned to a fresh sheet of paper.  
  
"I'll just ask the Tok'ra to come in now," Jack muttered, rising and pushing back his chair to retrieve the operative. Opening the door, he gestured at a large man seated outside the door to enter. "Come on in, join the party."  
  
Jack returned to his seat at the head of the table while the Tok'ra sat across from the major.  
  
"So," Jack started. "What do we call you?" he asked the Tok'ra.  
  
"I am Zophra. My host's name is Terrin." The Tok'ra bowed his head in greeting.  
  
"Zophra, Terrin. I'm Colonel O'Neill and this is Major Davis." Jack leaned forward. "Now that the introductions are out of the way, you mind telling me how the Menax got your security code?"  
  
"Colonel O'Neill. I assure you that my people did our utmost to prevent the Menax that access. We suffered great loss before they procured the access code." Zophra sat tall in his chair, his posture stiff and unyielding.  
  
Jack bristled. "Apparently you didn't do enough. And you're not answering the question-how did the Menax get the code?" he demanded.  
  
Zophra's eyes flashed brightly and the body relaxed fractionally. When he spoke again, the voice was smooth, the tin quality gone. "Colonel . . ."  
  
"Oh, that's just peachy," Jack interrupted. "I always knew you guys were cowards. I'm looking for a simple answer, and instead I get the PR department." Jack leaned forward threateningly. "Don't tell me that it's complicated. Don't tell me I won't understand. And don't tell me you did everything you could to prevent it from happening-because it happened, damn it! And because of that, I lost good men. Now you had better get your stories straight and give me an answer, or we may not have anything else to discuss-ever," Jack growled.  
  
Another flash of the eyes and Zophra spoke again. "The Menax used a piece of technology unlike anything we have ever encountered. After they-tortured-one of our operatives they were able to decipher the code from the GDO he'd been carrying."  
  
"And they just happened to evade your security?" Jack asked scornfully.  
  
"As well as your own," Zophra replied, his eyes narrow. "The Menax that came through your gate were only three of many. I do not know how they found the Tok'ra base. The damage was-severe," the powerful voice rumbled.  
  
Major Davis, who had until this point been sitting quietly, leaned forward, his eyes wide. "The Tok'ra base was attacked? What were the casualties?"  
  
Zophra's head dipped forward and then rose again. Terrin spoke, "We were able to evacuate most of our operatives, however we found ourselves overwhelmed by the Menax before everyone was evacuated. We lost five operatives and left more injured at the base to follow the Menax through the gate. We do not know how they obtained knowledge of Kheb. They went to extremes to gain the knowledge they seek and all they were able to obtain was your security code." Terrin turned to Jack. "Colonel. We did not betray the Tau'ri. We fought hard. We suffered more loss than was suffered on this base. No, that does not make your losses any less. But do not believe that we did not do everything in our power to prevent the subsequent attack."  
  
Jack lowered his head. "I know. I believe you."  
  
"Colonel," Terrin began. "There is something else you must know."  
  
Jack tensed at the foreboding sound of the Tok'ra's voice. "Oh?" he responded blandly.  
  
It was Zophra's voice that answered. "Selmac was one of our casualties."  
  
No! Jack's eyes clenched shut tightly. Were they to be spared on any front? The new doc-his new friend-injured, possibly brain damaged. A new race of hostile aliens setting their sights on Kheb, probably looking for the Harcesis. Sha're's child. The child that should have been Daniel's. Now this. How was he going to tell her? As a friend? As her CO? As the CO of the base? How does one tell anyone that their father is dead? Sam . . .poor Sam. How much more? How much more loss will be suffered in this damnable war? It may not have been the Goa'uld this time, but if it weren't for their attack on the base four years ago, the gate would never have been opened. They'd all be leading quiet lives. No, that's not right. Sam had time she never would have had with Jacob. The cancer would have taken him before now. Thank God for small favors. She'd been given the chance to rebuild their relationship. At least now she can say goodbye without regret.  
  
"How?" Jack managed to finally ask.  
  
"He died a hero Colonel. Selmac-Jacob, I do not know which, attempted to halt the force through the gate. It was his sacrifice that reduced their numbers so greatly."  
  
Oh Jacob. Jack shook his head and straightened. "Thank you. I'm sure you're tired. If you'd like to return to the infirmary, we'll inform you as soon as we make contact with your people."  
  
"Colonel, one more thing," Terrin said, still seated. "Kenric is weak. If we do not return to our people and find another host, he will die. I know this is a difficult time for you and I am familiar with your personal feelings regarding the matter, however I must ask."  
  
Jack stood and began to shuffle his papers together. He stopped and looked at Terrin. "You want to know if we may have someone willing to be a host," he stated flatly.  
  
"Yes," Terrin nodded.   
  
"If that becomes necessary-I'll ask," Jack acquiesced. "Now, if you'll both excuse me, I've got a base to run. Major, Terrin . . . Zophra," Jack added nodding as he passed.  
  
When Jack reached the hallway, he faltered. He hated delivering bad news, but this was his friend and that made it even worse. Jack straightened his uniform and briskly walked down the corridor, disappearing into the depths of the base.  
  
*****  
  
"Okay John, let's get you back into bed before we have to pick you off of the floor," Janet teased as she helped John ease back onto his infirmary bed.   
  
"I hate this," John mumbled.  
  
"What?" Janet asked, turning to look closely at her patient.  
  
"The after. I've been in one of these beds far too often recently and every time it's the same. I hate being so weak," John answered, pulling the blanket over his body.  
  
"It'll get better," Janet reassured. "I need to do some tests with you now John," she said, pulling forward a stool and sitting.  
  
"To rule out brain damage," John said, laying his head back and squeezing his eyes shut.  
  
"Hey, don't borrow trouble. You're awake. You can speak. You can walk. Your memory appears intact, with the exception of the attack itself. And that's common with head injuries. We're batting one hundred so far." Janet reached down and picked up a pad of paper and set it, along with a pencil, on the rolling table in front of John.  
  
John adjusted the pillows behind him and reached for the pencil. "What do you want me to do with this?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing, yet," Janet said. Picking up John's water cup from the bedside table, she asked, "What's this?"  
  
John narrowed his eyes and looked from the cup back to Janet. "You're kidding, right?"  
  
"I need to measure your ability to recognize and correctly identify objects," Janet answered, shaking the cup.  
  
Shrugging, John said, "It's a cup."  
  
"Good. What color is it?"  
  
"Yellow." John touched the table in front of him. "This is a table. It's brown." He fingered the blanket across his lap. "Blanket. Blue." Tapping the pencil he said, "Pencil. Yellowish orange." He fingered the pad of paper. "Paper. Grey-what is this, recycled?"  
  
Janet smiled. "That's very good John. You seem to be able to identify objects on sight. Now close your eyes." Janet waited until John's eyes were closed before picking up another object off the floor. Taking John's left hand, she put the object in his hand and closed his fingers around it. "Keep your eyes closed and tell me what you're holding."  
  
John rubbed the object in his fingers. His face took on an intense look of concentration and his eyes squeezed tighter. He raised his other hand and held the object between his fingers.   
  
Janet frowned. "John? Do you know what you're holding?"  
  
John moved his fingers over the object again. His mouth opened but he said nothing. Finally, his eyes sprung open. "You're kidding." Panicked eyes swung towards Janet. "This is some sort of trick," he said, his voice pleading.  
  
"John, calm down. This doesn't necessarily mean anything at this point," Janet said, doubting her own words.  
  
"Janet. It's a fucking paperclip," he snapped, throwing the offending item onto the table.  
  
"Let's try one more. That was small and you may not have been ready," Janet said. "Close your eyes again."  
  
John glared at her and closed his eyes again. Holding out his hand, he felt another object against his palm. It was heavy and felt like it was being tugged downwards. John reached out his other hand and it came in contact with something, only it wasn't near the hand already holding the object. Following along the item, his hands bumped together.   
  
What the hell?  
  
John concentrated and ran his fingers along the item but was unable to determine what he was holding.  
  
"Okay John. That's enough for now," Janet said, placing her hand supportively on John's upper arm.  
  
John opened his eyes and stared. It was a stethoscope and in one hand, he held the chest piece. No. No, no, no. He refused to believe this was happening. He was not fucking brain damaged!  
  
"John. We're done for now. Why don't you try and get some rest," Janet said, standing. She was stopped by John's hand clutching at her arm.  
  
"No. I want to know what else to expect. Finish the tests," he insisted.  
  
"John," Janet began.  
  
"Please." Brown eyes pleaded with her to understand, to ease the fear of not knowing.  
  
"Okay John. We'll finish." Taking her seat again she gestured towards the paper. "I'd like you to draw a square."   
  
While John was busy with the pencil, she sat and studied his silent features. John hadn't even finished his training at the SGC and now he was going to end up a statistic. A casualty of war. He may never be able to practice medicine again and he wouldn't even be able to tell anyone why. He was estranged from his family and Janet felt a pang of guilt at being the one to recruit him into the SGC. Away from Chicago where he a chance at a normal life. No matter how bad it had been at the time she had contacted him.   
  
Janet noticed that John had finished and was staring at the paper in front of him with a strange expression on his face. Janet glanced at the paper. Instead of saying anything, she handed the still man a book.   
  
"Pick a page and read something out loud," she instructed.  
  
Shaking hands opened the book and John stared at the page. "Is it in English?" he asked.  
  
"Yes John," Janet answered carefully. The man in front of her closed the book, laying it top of the paper. He didn't speak, but turned away from Janet and curled slightly.  
  
"I'll let you get some rest," Janet said, patting his arm. She gathered up the items from the tabletop. As she walked away, she glanced down at the notepad. Sharp black lines stretched across the page, occasionally overlapping. It could have been the scribbling of a two year old.  
  
TBC 


	16. SOSN16

*See part one for disclaimers.  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part 16  
By: Victoria May  
  
"I'm sorry Sam. I haven't been able to find anything even remotely similar to this writing-if it is writing. It could be something else, a code of some sort. Maybe it's just a pretty design. Without some sort of frame of reference, I'd only be guessing." Daniel dropped the picture on the table in front of his teammate and lowered himself onto an empty stool.  
  
Sam took the picture and studied it for a moment before shrugging and slipping it into a file. "Thanks for trying Daniel. I think we're all in the dark here. A completely unknown player enters the game and we're left guessing."  
  
"Did you get through to the Tok'ra base?" Daniel asked gently.  
  
Sam sighed and shook her head. "No news is good news, right?" she said with a small smile.  
  
"Oh! News! I completely forgot to tell you-I stopped by the infirmary this morning and John was awake," Daniel shared.  
  
"Finally. I really needed some good news. Thank you Daniel," Sam said happily. "I've got some good news as well. The gate is up and running and the engineers are rebuilding the ramp. As soon as we contact the Tok'ra and get their codes changed, we'll be back in business."  
  
Daniel nodded and slouched on his stool.   
  
"Are you okay?" Sam asked.  
  
"Mm, just tired. I didn't get any sleep last night," he answered, yawning loudly.  
  
"Me either," Sam commiserated. "I doubt anyone has, really. This whole thing has really shook the entire base. If the colonel hadn't jumped in as quickly as he did, we'd be in rough shape."  
  
"Jack was pretty impressive," Daniel admitted, proudly.  
  
"Yeah. I just wish it hadn't taken such a tragedy to allow him to show his mettle." Sam fell silent, the pair lost in their own thoughts. Sam glanced at her companion.  
  
"John was pretty impressive too," she said.   
  
"He was. I just can't believe that he saved the general's life, and didn't realize he was so badly injured," Daniel said.  
  
"Happens a lot actually in times of stress. The body's endorphins kick in and give the body the energy it needs to get through the situation. Luckily for John, he was rescued shortly after he ran out of steam." Sam fiddled idly with a pen. "You guys got pretty close, for you to offer him a room."  
  
Daniel shrugged. "I can remember how if felt to be alone and trying to fit in here. It was overwhelming at times. If it hadn't been for Jack opening up his home to me, I don't know what I would have done. And I like John. It's been a while since I've had a friend closer to my own age who, well, to put it bluntly, remembers what it's like to be a civilian," he admitted.  
  
"Should I be offended?" Sam teased.  
  
Daniel smiled wickedly. "Well, if the uniform fits . . ."  
  
"Hey!" Sam protested.  
  
"Ahem." Both occupants of the office turned to the doorway.  
  
"Jack!" Daniel exclaimed, surprised.  
  
"Colonel," Sam greeted. "How are you Sir? Are you holding up okay?" she asked, taking in his slightly crumpled appearance and serious eyes.  
  
"I'm fine," he said, his eyes locked on Sam's. Without turning away, he addressed Daniel. "Daniel, I need to speak to the major."  
  
"Um, sure. I'll, ah, be in my office," Daniel stammered, surprised at his dismissal. His eyes flickered to Sam's and he could read the confusion there. He slipped out quietly, shutting the door behind him.  
  
Sam watched her friend leave and turned all of her attention to her CO. "Colonel? Sir? What's going on?"  
  
Jack looked away and studied the ceiling for a moment. "Sit down Sam."  
  
Sam's chest tightened at the use of her given name and she groped for the table edge. "Just tell me Jack," she pleaded.  
  
Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Straightening, he stood at attention. "Major, I'm sorry to inform you that your father was killed when the Menax infiltrated the Tok'ra base."  
  
"No!" Sam cried out, her breath catching.  
  
Jack continued, before he lost the ability to do so. "He died a hero. It was due to his actions that it was only three Menax to come through our gate. The battalion that invaded the Tok'ra base was much larger."  
  
"He . . . he didn't need to die?" Sam choked out.  
  
Jack took a step towards his second. "What do you think your dad would do Sam? The Menax was torturing his people for information about us-the Tau'ri. They were coming here. He may be Tok'ra, but he's your dad first and foremost."  
  
When Sam didn't answer, Jack laid his hand on her shoulder. Sam straightened at the touch and wiped at her tears.  
  
"Sir. I need time alone. Please," she added, not wanting to hurt Jack's feelings, but needing the time to herself to come to terms with the bombshell that had just been dropped on her.  
  
"Okay. You want me to find Daniel and send him back?" Jack asked quietly.  
  
"No, thank you sir. I really do want-no, I need to be alone right now," Sam answered.  
  
Jack nodded and squeezed the shoulder under his hand again before quickly moving to the door to let himself out.  
  
Sam's voice stopped him. "Colonel-Jack. Thank you," she said, her eyes pleading with him to understand her need to deal with this herself. She needed to find a way to explain to her brother how their dad was dead. What excuse could she give? What would it do to the two of them? Would her brother blame her for his short time with their dad? Would he need her as much as she would need him to get through this loss?  
  
"You know where to find me if you need anything major," Jack said, his face somber.  
  
Sam nodded and watched silently as he turned his back and slipped around the door.  
  
*****  
  
"Colonel! I am so glad I found you. Did you receive my messages?"  
  
Jack cringed and groaned inwardly as he was approached by the base physician. Not now. What he really needed right now was a strong cup of coffee, two aspirin, and silence.   
  
"Doctor Frasier," Jack greeted as he turned to wait for the petite doctor to reach him. "No, I haven't gotten my messages yet. Do you have an update for me?"  
  
Janet's face was grim. "Actually, yes I do sir. But I don't want to have this discussion in the corridor. If we could go to my office?" she requested, already heading down the hallway.  
  
"Of course," Jack called out after her as he trailed along in her wake.  
  
When they reached the infirmary, Jack glanced at the infirmary beds. The curtains were drawn around Carter's bed. Jack followed the silent doctor into her office and sat while Janet shut the door behind them.  
  
"Good or bad?" Jack asked, rubbing his irritated eyes. It had been a long day, overseeing the repairs in the gateroom, meeting with Major Davis and Zophra, and then breaking the news to Sam about her father. He was tired and just wanted this day to be over. Instead, he had the feeling it was just going to get worse.  
  
"Excuse me?" Janet asked, confused by the question.  
  
"The news. Good or bad? Cuz I gotta tell ya. I'm not really in the mood for more bad news," he informed her.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you sir, but I'm afraid the news is bad-well, good and bad," Janet amended.  
  
Jack indicated with his hand for Janet to continue.  
  
"Doctor Carter awoke from his coma early this morning. He is conscious. He is able to speak clearly. He is able to walk. He is able to remember everything with the exception of the attack itself-that is not unusual with a head injury," she quickly added. "Doctor Carter is able to identify objects on sight as well as colors."  
  
Sounded good so far. Jack sighed and adjusted his position. "The bad news?" he prompted.  
  
"Doctor Carter is demonstrating diminished cognitive processes."  
  
"Meaning?" Jack asked, irritated. He just wanted straight answers. Black and white. He was trying to keep the base together and he needed all the information available to do that. Whether he wanted to hear it or not.  
  
"Doctor Carter is unable to read or write. While there may be some challenge related to understanding the words, at the moment, John is unable to even identify written words. Nor is he able to write."  
  
Jack nodded his understanding. "What else?"  
  
"He is unable to identify objects unless he is looking at them. Finally, his fine motor skills have been affected. I've called a specialist-a neurologist to examine John and he should be arriving sometime tomorrow. When I tested him, John was unable to draw a square. This is what he drew," Janet said, handing Jack a sheet of paper.  
  
Jack studied the erratic lines, none of which even vaguely resembled a square. "I see. So, will he recover?" Jack asked.  
  
"Possibly. He could recover or relearn the lost skills. Or, he may never recover these skills."   
  
"How long should I wait before calling his family?" Jack asked, already knowing John's fate.  
  
"I'd like to wait until the specialist examines John and see what he has to say," Janet answered, her eyes trained on her desk.  
  
"Well, if that's all, I need to return to my office. See what other messages I've missed," Jack said, rising.  
  
"Colonel?" Janet called as Jack reached the door. "A bit of good news. General Hammond seems to be responding well to the course of antibiotics. His fever is down and he is resting comfortably."  
  
"Thanks," Jack murmured as he hurried through the door. While he appreciated hearing that the general was recovering, he needed time to process everything he had learned that day. So much tragedy. So much loss. He needed to get the base fully operational-let his people have a sense of normalcy. He could do that much.  
  
*****  
  
Daniel leaned back in his chair and eyed the translation in front of him. Unable to sleep, or even rest, he'd pilfered his 'dead' translations file, deciding to try his hand at the few translations that had stumped him the first time around. He wasn't making any progress-not that he'd expected to, because he hadn't. It was just a convenient way to pass the time.   
  
He was curious about what Jack had to say to Sam that would cause such a grim look on the older man's face. While he feared that it had to do with news about Jacob, he wasn't about to jump to conclusions. Glancing at his desk again, he groaned and pushed himself out of his chair. This was getting him nowhere. It was getting late and he really needed to sleep. But first he wanted to see John. Hopefully Janet was allowing him visitors.  
  
Daniel pulled on his jacket over his tee shirt and shuffled off to the infirmary to see his friend. He stopped in the doorway and noticed that the curtain had been drawn around his friend's bed. A quick glance at Janet's door proved it to be closed, but the light was on and shining from beneath the metal door. Daniel hesitantly approached the closed curtain and said quietly,  
  
"John?"  
  
"Daniel?" a quiet voice responded from behind the curtain.  
  
"Um, yes. I thought maybe you'd like some company," Daniel said, hovering near the curtain.  
  
There was silence for a moment, than in an even softer voice, John answered, "I don't think I'm good company right now Daniel."  
  
Daniel wrapped his long arms around his waist. "Um, if you're sure," he fumbled, already shuffling towards the infirmary door.  
  
"Daniel. Wait . . ." John called, his voice louder, but still weak.  
  
Daniel paused near the door and waited for John's final decision. "I'll just come back tomorrow," he offered.  
  
"Stay. I want you to stay," John answered. "Come on back."  
  
Daniel silently slipped behind the white curtain and was relieved to see his friend awake and free of restricting machines. Glancing around he spotted a chair and pulled it next to the bed.  
  
"How are you?" he asked his friend.  
  
John closed his eyes and thought about the question. How was he? That was a good question. He was alive. He was breathing. He could think. He could walk. He could talk. Guess he should count his blessings.   
  
"Hey, I'm alive. What more can I ask for?" John let his eyes float quickly over Daniel, noted the concerned eyes, and glanced away quickly. He did not need pity. He did not need anyone to feel sorry for him. He made his bed, now he had to lie in it. He'd tried to take the easy way out and now fate, or karma, or whatever had caught up with him. He'd taken a life, and it was obvious his own was the price.   
  
"What does that mean?" Daniel asked, leaning forward.  
  
"It means, I screwed up. I let someone good, someone innocent, die because I was too busy to listen. Then I started to feel sorry for myself and didn't like that feeling, so I drowned it with whatever drugs I could easily get my hands on. Each time I got another chance. And what do I do? Instead of sticking around, facing up to my screw-ups, I ran away. I was a coward and now I'm paying for it." John fell silent, his eyes trained on the ceiling above him.  
  
"You don't believe that," Daniel said, surprised at his friend's outburst.  
  
"It's either that, or I'm simply cursed," John said, laying his head back and closing his eyes. "My entire life has been one big ordeal. Only instead of all this crap happening to me, it happened around me. My brother died. My roommate in med school killed himself. My cousin OD'd on drugs. Lucy . . . Lucy died after lying alone in that room for who knows how long, drowning in her own blood. It was only time that it all caught up with me."  
  
"I can see that you're upset," Daniel said uncomfortably, rising to leave.  
  
"How do you do it?"   
  
Daniel turned to find John staring at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he'd entered. "Do what?" he asked, confused.  
  
"How do you deal with knowing you're cursed?" John's eyes were full of pain. The question was not meant to hurt, but shot through Daniel's heart anyway.  
  
Staggering for just a second, he clamped down on his surging emotions and looked away. "You're tired. I'll let you sleep," he said as he ducked around the curtain and made a beeline for the infirmary door.   
  
It was silent behind him, but for a moment Daniel thought he heard the mournful sound of muffled sobs. He was tempted to go back, but he knew he couldn't offer the comfort John was seeking. He had no answers for his friend. How could he admit that he also feared the taint of some obscure curse, ripping through his life and hurting everyone that he had ever come to love?  
  
As he wandered back towards his office, he knew sleep would be a long time coming.  
  
*****  
  
Jack slumped over his desk, his head resting on folded arms. He knew he should be in Hammond's office, but he was hiding. He needed a break, if only for a short while. He was drained, physically and emotionally. He had a new respect for the general. This wasn't the first emergency the base had been through, and George had pulled them through every time. He made it look so easy.   
  
And here Jack was, hiding. Putting off the last of the unpleasant responsibilities that came with his ascension to CO of the top secret base. He had a letter to write to the parents of one Lieutenant Michael O'Connell, informing them of their son's tragic death. He would do it tonight. They deserved to know as soon as possible. Tomorrow, he had another contact to make. No more pleasant, but at least it wasn't to inform anyone of another loss.   
  
He would be calling the parents of Doctor John Carter. Requesting that they come to Colorado to meet with their son's doctors at the VA hospital where he would undoubtedly be transferred as soon as the specialist informed them of what he already knew. Carter was done. Done as a doctor. His short career as a civilian member of the SGC done as well.  
  
John would need their support as he came to terms with his new limitations. Would need their financial support as well. Oh, he'd get a stipend from the government, but it would not be enough to see him through the reeducation and resurrection of his life that would follow his physical recovery. Hopefully, his parents would not turn away in the face of his disability.  
  
Jack frowned at his desk as the tiny hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. Jerking backwards, he looked up to find Teal'c towering over him.  
  
"For crying out loud, Teal'c! You trying to give me a heart attack?" Jack snapped at his large friend.  
  
"I am not O'Neill. Nor did I intend to sneak at you," he said.  
  
"Sneak up on you, Teal'c. Not . . . never mind. You did a good job of it anyway," he added, scowling at the jaffa.  
  
"Thank you." Teal'c bowed his head at the perceived compliment.  
  
"I wasn't admiring your technique, big guy. Was there something you wanted?" Jack asked, disappointed that his catnap had been interrupted, but grateful that it had been Teal'c who had disturbed his solitude.  
  
"I have come to escort you to your quarters," Teal'c said, matter-of-factly.   
  
Jack stared at the tall warrior in disbelief. "You've what? Since when do I need an escort?"  
  
"It has come to my attention that you have failed to tend to your own needs since the attack. A leader must be strong or he will surely fall in the smallest of battles."  
  
"Riiight," Jack drawled. "Until this base is at one hundred percent, I can't rest. I would be failing at my post if something were to happen and I was off counting sheep somewhere."  
  
"Do you not trust your own people to tend to their duties? Will they not alert you of any new danger? It is time to stand down and rest. Show your troops that you have faith in them by allowing them to keep watch." Teal'c fell silent and stared impassively at Jack.  
  
"You practice that?" Jack said, as he rose from his chair.  
  
"I do not need to practice speaking the truth, O'Neill," Teal'c answered, holding his hand towards the door.  
  
"Escort my ass. Babysitter is more like it," Jack grumbled.  
  
Jack waited for Teal'c in the hallway and the two walked in sync down the long passageway. Next to Hammond, Jack respected Teal'c's opinion more than any other. The man was a warrior, with far more years of experience than Jack himself could boast. If he meant for Jack to sleep, Jack knew he was going to sleep. Not because Teal'c would force him, but because Jack trusted his guidance.   
  
"Has their been word on the Tok'ra?" Teal'c asked as they walked.  
  
Jack sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. Looking straight ahead, he answered, "We haven't been able to contact them yet. We may have to wait for them to contact us. The Menax infiltrated their base before coming here. They had to evacuate." After a long pause, Jack continued, "Jacob-Selmac, is dead. I had to tell Carter this afternoon."  
  
"It is truly a sad day then," the jaffa replied. "General Carter was a great warrior."  
  
"Yes, he was," Jack answered. The pair reached Jack's on-base quarters and Jack turned to Teal'c. "Keep an eye on Carter. She put on a good front, but she's hurting," Jack acknowledged.  
  
Teal'c bowed his head. "You have my solemn vow."  
  
"Good enough." Jack paused in his doorway. "Thanks Teal'c."  
  
Teal'c nodded. "You will sleep now."  
  
Jack laughed. "Got it. See ya in the morning," he said to his retreating friend's back. Sighing, he shut the door and faced the barren room. Maybe he'd be able to get a few hours in. Dropping onto the thin mattress, he was asleep almost immediately.  
  
*****  
  
"Hey, you asleep?"  
  
John raised his head and squinted at the blurry image in the shadows. "Wha?"  
  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Sam slipped through the curtain and quietly lifted the chair, placing it closer to the bed. "I hope you don't mind some company," she said as she sat.  
  
John blinked rapidly to clear the sleep from his eyes. When he looked at his visitor again, he was surprised at how exhausted she looked. Instinctually, he reached his hand towards her. Sam grasped it, clutching it tightly.   
  
"Sam? Are you okay?" John asked, ignoring a nagging headache that had been a constant since he had awoken that morning.   
  
"Tired," Sam said, attempting a smile that was more of a grotesque grimace.  
  
"It's more than that," John insisted. "What is it?" he coaxed, squeezing her hand gently.  
  
Rather than answer, Sam crumpled forward, leaning against the bed in front of her. Her body shook with silent sobs. John turned onto his side, careful not to pull his hand from Sam's hold. Gently, he brought his other hand up and cupped Sam's head. He let his fingers play through her soft hair, stroking harder when her cries became more pained.  
  
She finally stilled and rubbed her face against her sleeve, wiping away the traces of her breakdown.   
  
"Did that help?" John asked, still petting the resting head.   
  
"A little," Sam admitted, turning her face towards John. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to come in here and drown you with my tears."  
  
"Want to talk about it?" he offered.  
  
Sam slowly lifted her head, and John drew his hand back. Pulling his other hand gently out of Sam's, he used it to push himself up and over. Fixing the blankets to lay neatly over him, he patted the bed beside him. "Join me?" he offered, a small twinkle in his eyes.  
  
Sam offered him a real smile and settled on the bed beside him. Rather than talk, she turned and wrapped her arm around his waist and settled her head on his shoulder. "I'm so tired," she whispered.  
  
"So sleep," John answered quietly. He'd thought Sam had fallen asleep when she whispered again.  
  
"Dad's dead."  
  
Rather than offer her any reassurances, he pulled her closer and settled in for a long night.   
  
*****  
  
The halls of the SGC were quiet as the lone figure slipped out of the VIP suite. Stealthily, the shadowed figure made its way along the corridors, until reaching the closed infirmary door. It paused there, leaning against the solid foundation of the thick concrete wall, as if gathering courage. Straightening its shoulders, it gently turned the doorknob and eased into the infirmary.  
  
The night duty nurse looked up from her reports and nodded at the figure as it entered. She watched with tired eyes as the former patient approached his comrade in silence. The tall man approached the murky tank and lay his hand against the cool glass.  
  
"Have faith my friend," he murmured as he stood vigil over his fallen brother.  
  
TBC 


	17. SOSN17

See Part zero for disclaimer.  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part 17  
By: Victoria May  
  
Sam was gone by the time John stirred the following morning. Whether it was the loss of the body of warmth next to him or the pressure of a blood pressure cuff inflating on his arm that woke him, he was unsure. Blearily, he squinted up at the nurse hovering over him.   
  
"Morning," he mumbled, as he raised one arm to rub his tired eyes.  
  
"Good morning Doctor Carter," the young Lieutenant returned, as she unwrapped the cuff and circled her fingers around John's wrist.  
  
"What time is it?" John asked.  
  
"0800, Sir," she answered. "I'll be right back with your breakfast. Doctor Johannes will be here at 1000 hours."  
  
John frowned. "Johannes?"  
  
The nurse paused at the edge of the curtain. "The neurologist from the base hospital, Sir. He'll be doing your evaluation this morning."  
  
John turned away and the nurse slipped out. He hadn't given his apparent cognitive deficits any thought, beyond that his life, as he knew it, was now over. He should have known that Janet wouldn't write him off entirely until she knew beyond a doubt that the damage was permanent.   
  
John stretched, ignoring the twinge of familiar pain that rippled down his back. He knew what the neurologist was going to say. Even if he could relearn how to read, even if his ability to identify objects by touch-without sight-returned, his career as a doctor was over. He gambled with his life and lost. Better to just accept the inevitable and move on.  
  
His grandfather would stand stoically by while his grandson begged for his forgiveness. That's what he would be reduced to. A crippled, defeated mess, surviving on his grandparents' good graces. He'd have no choice but to join the family business in one venue or another. He could sit on the board, or maybe work public relations. As long as his newly acquired badge of dishonor remained hidden. He'd be the proverbial skeleton in the closet.  
  
John pushed his black thoughts away and mustered a small smile for the returning Lieutenant. As she lay his breakfast on the tray in front of him, he thanked her quietly. Everyone would be expecting him to accept this new turn of fate gracefully. He might as well start practicing now.  
  
*****  
  
"General Hammond, how are you feeling today?" Janet queried as she bustled into the small isolation room.  
  
"Better," the general acquiesced. "So, what's the prognosis?" he asked when Janet finished taking his vitals.   
  
"Well Sir, your labs show that the infection is clearing up-the antibiotics are doing their job. Your pulse-ox is good. Your incision site is healing well. Overall, you've shown a great improvement."  
  
The general smiled. "So when can I expect the 'all clear'?"  
  
"I have you scheduled for several more days of antibiotics, which need to be given intravenously. I need to be sure that the sepsis is completely gone before I can release you. After that, I would say that as long as there are no further signs of infection and your vitals remain stable, I'll release you in about a week."  
  
"A week?" Hammond's eyes narrowed and Janet shivered. She wasn't usually the one on the receiving end of one of the general's patented glares. It was as though the man was looking right into her soul, searching for validation. It was unnerving, to say the least. Janet was relieved when the older man relaxed his gaze and settled back onto his pillow.  
  
"You don't question how I do my job, and I suppose I owe you the same courtesy doctor."  
  
Janet smiled and patted the general's arm. "Is there anything you'd like before I go?"  
  
"How are my men doing?" His own injury, compounded by the infection, had kept him unconscious and disoriented since the attack. He was eager to know the status of all of his men and prayed that there were no casualties.  
  
"Sir, Captain Wilson, Sergeant Collins and Airman Landieu were treated for the effects of the aliens' weapons and were released. Lieutenants O'Connell and Janson did not make it Sir."  
  
Hammond rubbed his eyes tiredly. "They were the soldiers that were killed in the initial assault?"   
  
"Yes Sir," Janet answered, sharing the general's pain. It was her sworn duty as a doctor to save lives and it tore at her heart to report the loss of any life.  
  
"Doctor Carter?" Hammond asked.  
  
Janet stifled the urge to sigh. It was bad and she knew the general had already formed an attachment to the new doctor-had taken him under his wing, so to speak. "Doctor Carter suffered a severe concussion in the blast. There was some swelling and bleeding in his brain. We were able to control both without the use of surgery. John, Doctor Carter, had two seizures and slipped into a coma." At the general's shocked look, Janet rushed on.   
  
"It wasn't a deep coma and he came out of it the next day Sir. He is awake."  
  
Hammond sighed and noted the tense set of the doctor's shoulders and the grim look on her face. "Brain damage?" he asked, fearing he already knew the answer.  
  
"Yes Sir," Janet answered honestly. "Doctor Carter is showing significant, decreased cognitive abilities. His gross motor abilities are unaffected, as is his speech. However, he is unable to identify letters or words. He can not write. While he can identify objects on sight, he can not identify them without seeing them-through touch alone. Doctor Johannes, from the base hospital, is with him now, conducting a full battery of neurological tests."  
  
"Will he recover?" Hammond asked.  
  
"That's to be determined, Sir," Janet answered, not meeting the general's eyes.  
  
"Doctor," Hammond said, drawing Janet's eye. "Off the record, what are his chances?"  
  
Sighing audibly, Janet met her superior's gaze. "They don't look good Sir."  
  
*****  
  
Daniel turned over on his small cot and battered the military issue pillow into submission. He's been unable to sleep the previous night, despite his exhaustion. After his ill-fated trip to the infirmary to see his friend, his mind was wracked by John's words.  
  
'How do you deal with knowing you're cursed?'  
  
Daniel knew that the words were not about him, but he couldn't stop the cold fingers from closing around his heart and squeezing until he could no longer breath. He could think of nothing but those words, reverberating through his head into the early morning hours.   
  
He'd fled the infirmary, deserted his friend to face his demons alone. It was cowardly. He'd always thought himself beyond such puerile reactions. Yet, he'd found himself locked inside his darkened office, haunted by a question he'd asked himself many times before. It was a question to which he had no answer. Rather than admit that he truly had no idea how to 'deal' with all that had befallen him, he had chosen to pretend that it was a non-issue.   
  
Now, here he was again, contemplating the very thing that frightened him more than anything else. Deep inside, he believed that if he pondered too long on all that had happened in his relatively short life, he'd come to an answer, and it would not be pleasant.   
  
He could see the question lurking in the eyes of the fresh-faced airmen who had been baptized into the secrets of the SGC. His own secrets exposed to any who wanted to pry. He would meet the inquisitive eyes and smile and nod-all is well here, move along.   
  
He would not engage those beyond his small circle of trusted friends. It was within that sheltering circle that he felt safe. He could relax knowing that no one was going to push him to acknowledge the darkness that made up his very being.   
  
Yet, he found himself opening that circle and embracing John like a long lost relative. Perhaps he had instinctually known how alike they were at the basic level. Maybe he'd seen a glimmer of that same darkness shadowing John's soul. Perhaps they were brothers in this great universe of cosmic irony. Whatever it was that drew them together, it frightened Daniel and he'd abandoned his brother to the clutches of a terrifying and destructive foe.   
  
Daniel was good at pushing the fear aside, locking it deep within himself and chaining it tightly. Already he could feel his doubt and the lingering terror fading. He was surprised at the remaining sensation that grew with every beat of his heart.  
  
Guilt. Strong and powerful and gaining in intensity. He'd left his fallen brother behind. He'd run and hadn't looked back. He'd promised safety and friendship and delivered nothing. Instead, he'd turned a blind eye. He'd closed his ears and his heart to the sorrowful sound of muffled sobs-abandoning the lost soul to its own devices.   
  
He'd failed his friend, as if his own fear, his own pain were greater. He knew how destructive one's own soul and thoughts could be, yet he'd walked away. It may already be too late to salvage any hope within his friend. How had John spent his night? Had he lay awake all night, letting his own obsession with the darkness within grow? Or had he succumbed to the pull of sleep with torturous dreams to pray upon the bleakness?   
  
Daniel let his thoughts-his feelings wash over him until his head pounded with stabbing pain and his eyes watered. It was only the weakness in his legs that had sent him crashing to the floor when he'd attempted to pull a book from high on his shelves that convinced him to lie down. And still sleep eluded him.   
  
The pain could grow a thousand fold, his sleepless nights could stretch infinitesimally, and it still would not be a fitting punishment for his failure.  
  
*****  
  
Zophra stood tall beside his fallen comrade. Adopting a familiar stance, the Tok'ra reached out his hand and pressed it flat against the glass of the warm tank. The fluid within was cloudy. Zophra watched his friend, his brother, Kenric with sorrowful eyes. His friend would be dead soon. Already, the skin was ashen and the eyes dull. Sharp movement marked small seizures, and he was forced to stand by and watch as a great warrior faded away.  
  
Kenric had battled against the Goa'uld for centuries before the Tau'ri joined the fight. He'd defeated system lords far more powerful than Apophis and Ra. He'd freed countless races from the dredges of slavery that these humans now rallied against. Yet, not one would step forward and join with the mighty warrior Kenric. Cowards, all of them.  
  
Zophra's eyes flared white, the only outward sign of his growing anger and frustration. These Tau'ri knew the Tok'ra code forbid Kenric from blending with a new host. They would stand by and let him die, rather than give up their precious freedom they so desire. What good will the freedom of body do when the Goa'uld overthrow their simple planet? When that freedom is forcibly stripped away, leaving their entire civilization amidst destruction and chaos?  
  
Fools! Zophra vowed to meet with the counsel upon his return. He would withdraw his support of relations with this obstinate race.   
  
Zophra let his eyes flash again, as a nurse approached the silent Tok'ra.   
  
"Can I get you anything Sir? Something to eat, or drink?" the small, mousy nurse offered tentatively.  
  
"No," Zophra answered, his voice deep and powerful. He turned away from the small Tau'ri, dismissing her entirely.  
  
"Well, if you'll excuse me then. I'll be retrieving dinner trays for the patients. I'll be back in about fifteen minutes, if you change your mind." The young nurse shivered and pulled her sweater tighter around her body. Why would anyone voluntarily let themselves be used by a snake like that? It turned her stomach to think about it. And how could anyone be sure that the Tok'ra weren't just Goa'uld, patiently biding their time, infiltrating their enemy's base? Feigning friendship while planning the destruction of her home? Those creatures disgusted her and she was thankful for her small reprieve as she slowly made her way toward the commissary.   
  
Zophra noted the shiver and the look of distaste that danced across the small woman's features before she turned away. His idle hand clenched into a fist at his side as he quietly seethed.   
  
He was alone in this healing room, aside from the few patients scattered throughout the barren space. All was quiet, but Zophra soon realized that voices buzzed from behind a door across the room. The door was large, like all the others in this dismal place, but it hung ajar. Curious, Zophra approached and hovered out of sight, listening to the private conversation from within.  
  
"So the damage is permanent?" a feminine voice drifted out.  
  
"It appears so, yes. Of course, with any brain injury, there are no guarantees either way," a male voice answered.  
  
"So he could recover some of his lost abilities?" the soft, female voice prodded. Zophra shook his head-stubborn Tau'ri.  
  
"If I had to lay odds, I'd say he has less than a five percent chance of recovering anything. It's not really a case of relearning. Doctor Carter has lost the ability to associate language with symbols-he will not be able to relearn how to read as his brain will lack the ability to associate the symbols with sounds. This is the same dysfunction impairing his ability to identify objects with touch alone. His brain is not capable of receiving and associating the signals being sent by his hands. He's lucky to be able to identify people and things on sight and sound. So this particular cognitive ability is not lost completely. But unless it instantaneously regenerates itself, Doctor Carter will never recover these abilities. I'm sorry."  
  
"Damn!" the sharp expletive carried out of the office and Zophra flattened himself against the wall, fearful of being discovered.  
  
The male voice attempted to soothe the other. "I take it he's a friend?"  
  
"Yes, and a colleague. I feel responsible. I invited him to join the program. I'd met him a few years ago in Chicago and he impressed me greatly. He was just a student in the middle of a crisis-a toxin was being spread throughout the ER where he worked and he stepped up and took charge. Calmed everyone down. Called in Hazmat. Made sure that there was limited if any loss of life. I wasn't able to forget the heroic young doctor and when the general asked me to recommend someone, I chose him."   
  
Zophra's eyes widened. A hero.  
  
"It's not your fault," the male voice reasoned.  
  
"If I hadn't chosen him, he'd still be a doctor. He'd be doing what he was meant to do, not lying in that hospital bed with a faceless future."  
  
Zophra turned his head and gazed around the still infirmary. Where are you Doctor Carter?  
  
The male voice spoke again, louder. "I've got to get back to the base hospital. I'm sorry I wasn't able to deliver better news."  
  
Zophra didn't remain to hear the woman's response. He needed to think. Time was running out.  
  
*****  
  
Daniel's head was pounding again, but the pounding was coming from outside his head. That was strange. The sleeping archeologist pressed his face into his flattened pillow and tried to regain his deep slumber. The pounding only grew louder. Daniel moaned and red eyes pulled open wearily.  
  
Door. Someone was at he door. Daniel fumbled for his glasses but succeeded only in pushing them further under his cot.   
  
"I'm coming," he muttered as the door handle was jiggled. He stumbled his was around the large work area, knocking over a pile of books in the process. He finally made it to the door and flipped the lock, pulling the door open.  
  
"Daniel, where the hell have you been?"   
  
Daniel cringed at the bellow. Rubbing the back of his stiff neck, he answered, "Here."  
  
"Geez, you look like crap." Jack frowned as he studied his wayward scientist. He really did look like crap. Flushed face, red eyes, hair that looked like maybe he finally went and did something as stupid as sticking his finger in a light-socket.   
  
"Thanks Jack," Daniel responded wryly. "Is there something you wanted?" he asked as he kneeled in front of his cot and stuck his long arm under. He fumbled for a bit before his fingers finally wrapped around his glasses. Pulling them out, he blew on them to dislodge the dust and stuck them on his face.  
  
Jack watched the show and allowed a small smile to grace his tired countenance. "I've been trying to get a hold of you for over an hour now. You got your phone shut off or something?"  
  
"Or something," Daniel answered, not wanting to admit that he'd actually unplugged his line. "What time is it?"  
  
"1800 hours," Jack answered crisply.   
  
"18 . . . Oh," Daniel said, grimacing.  
  
"Yeah, oh. So, you, me, dinner, now," Jack ordered.  
  
"Yes Sir!" Daniel jumped to attention and saluted.  
  
"Smartass. Let's go," Jack said as he lead the way out of the dark office. "So, you been sleeping all day?" he asked his quiet friend.  
  
Daniel shrugged. "Haven't been sleeping much the last couple of days. Guess it just caught up with me." His eyes never left the concrete floor in front of him as he wrapped his long arms around his waist.  
  
"It's been a tough week," Jack agreed. "Is that all that's going on?" he prodded.  
  
Daniel sighed. "Yes dad. That's it. Just tired." He fell silent and the pair walked quietly to the commissary. As they walked through the line, Daniel's posture straightened and he looked at Jack. "How about you? How are you doing? This must be really tough on you, having to take command and all. Er, not that you can't handle it, or anything . . ." he trailed off.  
  
Jack allowed himself another small smile. He should have dragged Daniel out of his office earlier. He forgot just how easily the younger man could improve his spirits just by being Daniel.  
  
"It's been . . ." Jack paused and thought about the last few days. Many descriptive words came to mind. Hellascious. Stressful. Demanding. Painful. Sorrowful. None of them good. Aside from the fact that the Menax hadn't been successful at fully infiltrating the base, there wasn't much to be grateful for.   
  
"Demanding," he finally finished, lamely. He led his younger teammate to an empty table and sat with a large sigh. He tore into his meal with vigor, having worked through lunch. He didn't notice as Daniel picked at his food.  
  
"Um, Jack. I was wondering, that is, ah . . ."  
  
"Carter?" Jack interrupted.  
  
"Um, yeah," Daniel agreed, wondering if Jack meant Sam, as he did.  
  
Jack sighed again, and pushed his tray away. Thankfully he had eaten most of his meal before such a sore subject was brought up. "Look, Daniel. I'm sorry for being so abrupt with you yesterday."  
  
Daniel squeezed his arm. "I understand."  
  
"I know you do," Jack said before running his free hand over his face. "Jacob's dead. The Menax attacked the Tok'ra base in greater numbers before getting our code. Jacob, Selmac-they died fighting to keep the Menax from coming through the gate."  
  
"Oh no. Poor Sam." Daniel fell silent, thinking about his friend and remembering the pain from his own similar loss many years ago.  
  
"You okay?" Jack asked.  
  
"Yeah," Daniel nodded. "It's just . . . a shock."  
  
Jack leaned closer. "Daniel. I have something else to tell you, that you need to know."   
  
Daniel froze. He didn't want to hear anymore. He knew instinctually that he did not want to know what Jack was about to tell him.  
  
"Daniel, have you seen the doc?" Jack asked quietly.  
  
Daniel nodded. "Last night."  
  
"Did he tell you anything-his condition?"  
  
"No," Daniel answered, knowing that he had left without giving his friend the chance.  
  
"The doc suffered some brain damage from his concussion. He can't read, or write. He can't tell what he's holding or touching without seeing it . . .."  
  
The crash of a tray hitting the floor was followed by the terrified cry, "no!"   
  
Jack wrenched around at the terrified cry uttered from behind him. He turned in time to see Sam run from the crowded room.  
  
"Damnit!" Jack climbed out of his chair and looked at Daniel. "You, come on," he said. "Someone clean this up!" he hollered as he strode from the room, Daniel on his heels.  
  
*****  
  
The infirmary was again dimly lit, as it was each night, when Zophra returned. A new nurse was on duty at the desk on the far side of the room, and she barely looked up long enough to notice who had entered. Zophra approached the tank housing his friend. After a moment of contemplation, Zophra's eyes flared determinedly.  
  
The Tok'ra operative glanced at the night nurse and was satisfied that he need not be concerned by her interference. He glanced quickly about the infirmary and approached the only bed contained by a closed curtain.  
  
As he stepped up to the curtain, he said softly, "Doctor Carter?"  
  
"Yes?" a quiet male voice answered.  
  
Zophra stepped behind the curtain and stood at the foot of John's bed. Gesturing at the empty chair, he asked, "May I?"  
  
John frowned but nodded anyway. He didn't know this man, but he was curious as to what he had to say. The man was wearing fatigues and sat stiffly and at attention. A colonel maybe, John guessed.  
  
"I have a matter of great importance to discuss with you," Zophra began.  
  
"Maybe you'd better begin with who you are," John said. No one had informed him that he would be receiving a visitor that night, and the man had come unannounced. John took a deep breath and attempted to slow his racing heart.  
  
Zophra bowed his head. "I am Zophra, of the Tok'ra." Zophra's voice was deep and sounded metallic-artificial.   
  
John quirked his eyebrow but remained silent. Okay, he knew there were Tok'ra on the base. They had been injured in the explosion. While he didn't remember the attack or the explosion, John had been told that he triaged the injured in the gate room. He had probably worked on the man before him and didn't remember. He could feel himself relaxing as he reasoned with himself that he had no reason to be afraid.  
  
"John Carter," he finally replied. He was startled when Zophra's eyes flashed brightly and once again fought for breath.  
  
"There is no need for fear," the Tok'ra reassured him.  
  
John grimaced, but answered truthfully, "Right. You startled me. Sorry. I knew about the eye thing, but I've never seen it." He paused and studied the being in front of him. "I'm not talking to Zophra any more, am I?"  
  
Terrin laughed quietly. "No. I am Terrin. Greetings."  
  
"Greetings," John replied as he also smiled. "What can I do for you, Terrin?" John grasped the small control and raised his bed so he was eye level with his guest.  
  
"First, I must apologize for our actions. We wanted to speak with you, but needed to do so privately."   
  
"Okay. I'm listening. To be honest, I'm curious as to what you want from me," John replied.  
  
Terrin nodded. "We are aware of your situation and we think we can help you."  
  
John knew that the Tok'ra had access to far better technology than that of Earth, including the Goa'uld healing device. He wanted desperately to hope, but didn't want to face the crushing disappointment again if they couldn't help him.   
  
"Can you heal me?" he finally asked.  
  
Terrin's eyes flashed and Zophra spoke. "I am sorry. Even if we had access to a healing device, we have learned that it is ineffective in treating extensive damage to the brain."  
  
John refrained from mentioning the healing device that the SGC had access to. If Zophra and Terrin couldn't use it, there was no reason to bring it up. Why had he let himself hope? He should have known that this was a life sentence. There would be no reprieve.  
  
"If you can't heal me, how can you help me?" he asked.  
  
"A healing device can not heal you, but a symbiote can," Zophra answered calmly. He studied the man lying in the bed in front of him. He was young, even by earth standards. He did not look like a hero, as he had been described, but appearances were often deceiving.   
  
"A symbiote," John repeated. What exactly were they offering? The only way John knew that a symbiote could heal someone . . . was if they were joined. No! No way. No way in hell. No way on earth. Just, no way.  
  
"No," he said firmly. "You want me to become a host. You want me to give up control of myself-to let myself be possessed by a snake."  
  
Zophra's eyes flashed angrily. "Tok'ra are not 'snakes' as you say. We do not possess anyone. We do not take control away from our hosts. That is not our way, Tau'ri!"  
  
John squeezed his eyes closed. Where was everyone? Did Janet know this Tok'ra was here, offering this? Did anyone?  
  
"Why are you here?" he ground out.  
  
"My friend is dying. He needs a host," Zophra answered.  
  
"Why me?" John demanded.  
  
"We only offer, Tau'ri. We are not here to coerce you. We are aware of what you have lost and we can offer you the chance to regain it."  
  
"I am a doctor," John stated. "You are soldiers. You have no need for a doctor. I'd be forced to fight, not heal."  
  
"Is that not why you are here? To fight? Is this not the base of Tau'ri soldiers who fight against the Goa'uld?" Zophra asked, gesturing broadly.  
  
"I fight only if needed. I am here to heal. I am a doctor!" John screamed; his frustration and sorrow at his own loss finally finding release.  
  
"Not any longer Tau'ri."   
  
"Get out! Get the fuck out of here! I'm a doctor. I'm not some pawn for you to play with. Get out!" John screamed as the monitor next to him began to blare loudly at his increased pulse rate.  
  
John gasped for breath, not noticing as the night nurse pressed the alarm or when the rush of guards flooded the infirmary. He continued to scream as a doctor injected his arm and finally, the world faded to black.  
  
TBC 


	18. SOSN18

*See part one for disclaimers.  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part 18  
By: Victoria May  
  
"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Jack barked as he paced in front of the indignant Tok'ra. "You're lucky I don't toss your ass back through the gate and let you hope there's something left on the other side!"  
  
Zophra continued to stare straight ahead, unmoved by the colonel's antics. Jack stopped in front of the other man and stared at him. "Well? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"  
  
"I saw no harm in making the offer to the doctor. It would be mutually beneficial." Zophra kept his voice level, containing the fury seething within.  
  
"You saw no harm! You saw no harm-sheesh! The man just found out that he's disabled for life. So you go in there and take advantage of that fact and try and manipulate him! If it weren't for you, he wouldn't be laying in there." Jack closed his hand into a fist and stomped away.  
  
"What would you have me do, Colonel? Would you have me stand by and watch my friend die? Because that is what you are asking me to do. I apologize for upsetting the doctor. That was not my intention. However, I am not sorry for trying."   
  
Silence fell between the two men as they reached a stalemate. Neither willing to see the other man's point of view and neither conceding their own guilt.   
  
"Colonel, if I may speak?"  
  
Jack sighed and ran a hand through his gray locks. "Terry, right?"  
  
"Terrin."   
  
"What, ol' Zophra turn tail and run?" Jack snarled.  
  
"No, he is afraid he may say something irrevocably damaging," Terrin supplied, calmly.  
  
"Too late!" Jack quipped. "But go ahead, give it your best shot."  
  
"Zophra meant no harm." Noting the colonel's incredulous look, he rushed on, "I know you don't believe that, but hear me out. Please."  
  
Jack flopped into his desk chair and waved the pleading operative on.  
  
Terrin bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you. Zophra and Kenric share a bond-one rather unique amongst the Tok'ra. Whilst we are all united, all of the same queen, we don't often form a tighter unity with any one Tok'ra. But Zophra and Kenric have.  
  
"Since the day of birth, the pair have been inseparable. It is theorized that they are of the same egg . . ."  
  
"Twins," Jack supplied grudgingly, his interest peaking.  
  
"Yes, what the Tau'ri term 'twins'. From the same egg, genetically identical. A rarity amongst any of our kind. Zophra and Kenric have often undertaken the same missions, to remain together. That is why they came through your gate together-to fight the Menax. That is why Zophra fights so hard to save Kenric."  
  
Terrin fell silent and stood waiting for Jack to pass judgement.  
  
"Zophra," Jack addressed the Tok'ra. When the other man's eyes flashed brightly, he continued, "I understand why you did what you did. Granted, it was still tactless, but I should have learned long ago not to expect any different. You've said your peace to Doctor Carter, and now you are to stay away from him. Stay away from the infirmary. If I see you anywhere near the infirmary or Doctor Carter, I'll have your ass in the brig so fast you won't know what hit you. Do we have an understanding?"  
  
Zophra held his head high and allowed only a sharp nod to be his answer. As he turned to leave, Jack called out,  
  
"Oh, one more thing. The mess is usually pretty crowded at this time of day. You might want to get yourself something to eat. If you happen to mention Kenric to the airmen, well, I can't stop you. But no guarantees anyone will listen." Jack turned his attention to a stack of paperwork and ignored the stunned Tok'ra. When he heard the door open, followed by retreating footsteps, he finally released the sigh he had been holding. Twins-what next?  
  
*****  
  
John stared at the jumble of letters dancing in front of his eyes. Teasing, they darted towards him, then away, then swirled around his head like a swarm of mosquitoes. He could feel something heavy in his hands, heavy and warm. And wet-slimy almost. He squeezed and the object gave easily. It pulsed and John swayed to the even rhythm. Curious, John ducked away from the swarming alphabet and peered down at the throbbing blob in his hands.   
  
Pink and gray and streaked with rivulets of blood, a beating heart lay cradled within his ignorant hands. Choking on the gorge that surged up his throat, he pulled away and gasped for air.   
  
"Carter! What are you doing? Continue the heart massage-we're going to lose her!" Kerry Weaver's nasal voice commanded.   
  
John turned back and bumped into a gurney. Looking down at the patient, he recoiled from the pale, bloodless face of his student.   
  
"Lucy . . .."   
  
Hands pushed him away and another body took his place next to the gurney. "You're useless to us like this. You need help. You're an addict John. You're a gork, just like Chase."  
  
"No! You're wrong! Dr. Benton-I'm clean. You know that! You were with me! You know I went to Atlanta!" John pleaded to the stiff back of his mentor.  
  
"I saw you John. I saw you palm the Versed."  
  
"Abby! No! That's over-I'm clean!" John protested to the intern.  
  
Large brown eyes looked back sadly. "John, it's in your arm. The needle-it's still in your arm."  
  
John looked down, horrified to see himself pushing in the plunger, releasing the drug into his bloodstream. "I don't know what I'm doing! It was an accident! My hands-they're useless now! I didn't know. I wasn't looking! I have to be looking, or I don't know!"  
  
"Tell me another one cuz." The blond man was encased in a pair of blue scrubs, leaning over Lucy's lifeless body. His hands disappeared into the gaping hole in her chest.  
  
"Chase? What are you doing here? You're not a doctor . . ." he trailed off.  
  
"Nope, I'm just a gork in a nursing home. And you my friend, my favorite cousin, are an addict. Tell your dad you want a room next to mine. I miss you cuz-I really do."  
  
"No! I'm clean! Dr. Benton! You have to believe me!"  
  
"I don't have time for quitters, Carter. You want to play soldier, fine. You decide you want to be a doctor, look me up. You know where to find me." Chocolate eyes pierced his own, before the dark surgeon turned away and approached the gurney.   
  
"Hold her still, this is probably going to hurt." He approached the still body, a writhing gray mass in his hands. As he neared the bloody student, the mass screeched and lunged towards Lucy. The beast wiggled forward until it slipped down into the open chest cavity, slithering until it disappeared.   
  
The body on the gurney lurched up, blue pale eyes glowing brightly. The chapped, white lips opened.  
  
"Doctor Carter, Doctor Carter! John, it's okay! Wake up!"  
  
John's eyes snapped open as he gasped for breath. The infirmary, he was in the infirmary. A small woman leaned over him, shined a light in his eyes.  
  
"Lucy?"  
  
"No John. It's Janet. It was just a bad dream. You're fine now. You're just fine. Relax, slow your breathing. You're fine."  
  
"Janet?" John repeated, finally focusing on the doctor hovering over him.  
  
"You awake now?" Janet asked, patting his arm comfortingly.  
  
John closed his eyes and nodded. "I'm awake," he answered.  
  
"Good, you're scaring the patients," Janet teased.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Don't worry. Bad dream?" Janet probed, as she set about checking John's vitals.  
  
"Oh yeah," he agreed.  
  
"You okay if I leave you alone?" Janet asked as she studied her patient intently.  
  
"Yeah. I'm fine, now that I'm awake." John fumbled for the bed controls and raised his head. "I'm just going to . . ." he looked around, finding nothing with which to occupy himself. "Sit here," he finished lamely.  
  
"I'm sure you'll have visitors any minute now," she assured him. "Okay, I'll be in my office if you need anything."  
  
"Thanks Janet."  
  
The petite doctor patted his arm one last time before scurrying away to the safety of her office. John never noticed the tears that held in check, finally pouring over and down pale cheeks, out of sight.  
  
Janet had opened the privacy curtain and in her haste, had left it open. John turned onto his side and let his eyes roam over the room's occupants. The duty nurse was in her usual spot, tucked against the far wall at her desk. A guard lurked outside the infirmary door, his presence large and threatening. And finally, a tank filled with murky water and a dying symbiote took up the empty wall outside Janet's office.   
  
John had read all the literature, knew as much about the physiology of the creatures as the limited knowledge allowed, and had met fully bonded Tok'ra. But despite all of that, he had a hard time seeing the creatures as rational, intelligent beings.   
  
Without hosts, the creatures were no more than water dwelling amoebas. Their knowledge was passed down genetically, their technology stolen. How the Tok'ra had come to escape the cycle of death and destruction was a true mystery.   
  
They were warlords-their followers, slaves. They controlled through fear and fear alone. Pillaging villages and entire planets. Taking without giving.   
  
The Tok'ra were an enigma. The same species as the goa'uld, they claim to bond only with willing hosts. Why then had Jolinar betrayed that sacred oath and taken Sam as a host? Was their word only as good as the circumstances surrounding them? Was their heritage too ingrained to truly escape the ways of their ancestors? Was the scale of power truly equal between host and symbiote? Or would the natural instincts rise above all else in dire circumstance?  
  
John glanced at the dying symbiote. Was it fair to judge the Tok'ra as one would judge the goa'uld? Was it fair to allow them to suffer and die, paying for the crimes of their ancestors?   
  
Zophra had been adamant in his plea for his friend's life. John didn't doubt his sincerity, but the goa'uld were known to be sincere as well as they sought out hosts for their own kind.   
  
Turning away from the murky water, John's eyes focused on a book left lying on a nearby bed. Letting his eyes roam over the writing on the spine, John tried to make out the words. The jumbled mess refused to resolve into any recognizable form. Books, reading, writing. Things John would need to learn to live without.   
  
Dismayed, John closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. Bumps and indents with no way to know if he was trailing over his lips or his nose. How long would it take for his sense memory to fade-to forget how far it was to his face, to his pockets, to his shoes? He'd never been afraid of darkness before, but now it was his greatest enemy. He needed to see to know what he was touching, where he was putting his hands. Would his pain receptors be enough to keep him from irreparable harm? If he closed his hand around a thistle, would he know before or after the sharp bristles were imbedded in his palm?  
  
He'd always wanted to be a doctor-for almost as long as he could remember. His brother's death was only the catalyst that made that dream a reality. To save lives and prevent suffering-he'd thought that was his calling. But so much has stood in his way; he had to wonder if he'd been wrong. His family looked down their noses at his chosen profession. Accused him of being difficult and spoiled. Med school friends pegged him for plastic surgery from day one, seeing him only as another rich kid looking to accrue an independent fortune.   
  
But he ignored the jibes and pushed onwards, finally taking on an internship that he'd thought was the be-all and end-all of his journey. In a way it was-his alpha and his omega. The beginning and the end for Doctor John Truman Carter III. The place where he'd taken his first steps as a doctor-being electrocuted by another student and learning his stomach was not a friend of blood and gore. The place where he learned compassion had as much of a place as nimble, talented fingers. The place where he watched his career begin its downward decent in the eyes of a dying woman.   
  
Had he been wrong? Had he committed some unforgivable sin, barring him from success? Was he being judged and if so, what was his atonement? To join the ranks of disgraced Carter's, out of sight, out of mind? Was it even worth living if that life was worthless?  
  
Maybe it would be better to just atone now. Lay down his life for a nobler cause. Maybe he could finally find forgiveness for his multitude of sins. What worth would he have hiding away in the Carter fortress, causing only more pain and work for those around him? Better to sacrifice himself for the greater good and be done with it.  
  
"Janet?" he called out, his voice hoarse. The nurse looked up, revealing a thick novel. A shadow appeared in the doorway of Janet's office, soon followed by the small doctor.  
  
"John? Is everything all right?" she asked, studying the monitors next to the bed.  
  
"Fine. Everything's fine. I'd like to see Zophra."  
  
*****  
  
"I didn't know. How could I not know something was wrong? How could I just lay there and cry all over him when all the while he was hurting as much, if not more than me?"   
  
"Sam, he's your friend. He would never turn you away or belittle your pain. You've lost your father. I'm sure he sees that loss as greater than his own. You needed a friend then, and you turned to him. He would never turn you away," Daniel soothed.   
  
"That doesn't make it right!" Sam protested.  
  
"Would you really have expected anything less from him? I think we've all spend enough time with him to know how empathetic he is. He cares about you Sam, I know he does. He trusts you. He wanted to be there for you. Don't belittle that." Daniel stopped his diatribe and ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "I shouldn't be lecturing you. How are you doing?" he asked, turning to his friend and taking her hand.  
  
"Honestly? I think I'm in shock. It all feels like a bad dream and I keep waiting to wake up. Part of me wants to believe that dad is still alive and will come walking through the gate any minute to tell me it was all a mistake. The other part, the rational part, says 'Pull it together soldier!', and the funny thing is, it's dad's voice I hear." Sam's voice broke and she pulled her hand away from Daniel, covering her face with it and turning away.   
  
"I'm so sorry Sam. I wish there was something I could do . . ."  
  
"You understand. That's enough. Thank you, for letting me cry on your shoulder-even though I should be all cried out by now." Sam pulled a tissue from the yellow paper box tucked next to her computer. "I'm going to stop crying now, really," she said, dabbing at fresh tears.  
  
Daniel reached for another tissue and handed it to his friend. "It's not going to stop hurting on demand. No one expects you to pretend that nothing has happened."  
  
"I know. But I want to stop thinking about it, at least for a little while. Okay?" Sam straightened her jacket and smoothed down her hair. "Do I look okay?"  
  
Smiling, Daniel pulled Sam into a quick hug. "Other than being a little pink and wet, you look fine."  
  
"Thanks," Sam sniffled. "I want to go and see John. Thank him for being so selfless. Maybe let him cry on my shoulder this time."  
  
Daniel groaned inwardly and squeezed his eyes shut. A light touch on his arm drew him back.  
  
"Daniel? What's the matter?"  
  
His eyes closed again and his eyebrows rose-a look of total misery on his face. "I need to see him too. I need to apologize," Daniel said, shaking his head dejectedly.  
  
"Why do you need to apologize?" Sam asked, a frown marring her pretty features.  
  
"I was with him yesterday. He was really upset and he said something that just hit too close to home for me. Instead of staying and trying to comfort him, I left like a coward. I am a coward," Daniel declared loudly, pounding a fist into his palm.   
  
"You're one of the bravest people I know, and don't you dare say otherwise," Sam scolded. "Everything that's happened-it's been hard on all of us. You're only human Daniel. I'm sure John understands and will forgive you."  
  
The pair sat quietly for a moment before Sam finally stood and nodded towards the door.  
  
"Let's go see the good doctor and bring a little cheer, shall we?" she said, offering her arm.  
  
Smiling, Daniel looped his arm through Sam's. "After you.'  
  
*****  
  
"So, you enjoying your stay at the SGC Grande?"  
  
General Hammond watched his second in command pacing across the tiny isolation room, picking up random objects and fondling them absent-mindedly.  
  
"Colonel-Jack. Why don't you sit down? What's on your mind?" the general asked.  
  
Jack fiddled with a dangling tube before turning and perching on the edge of the room's only chair. "I have to hand it to you Sir. You deserve mucho kudos for the job you do. It isn't easy walking in your shoes," Jack admitted.  
  
"Never said it was-I just make it look effortless. Tricks of the trade," he added with a smile. "That and thirty plus years of service."  
  
"Ah, gotcha," Jack said, as his eyes roamed the small room.  
  
"Problems?" the general prompted.  
  
"Thought you might like a status report," Jack answered.  
  
Nodding, the general agreed, "All right."  
  
Jack folded his hands and squeezed them between his knees. "Well sir, I have some bad news. The Menax attacked the Tok'ra base before coming here. That's how they got the Tok'ra IDC code. There was a lot of damage-a lot of casualties."  
  
Hammond heard what Jack wasn't saying. "Jacob."   
  
Jack continued to avoid the general's gaze. "Yes sir."  
  
"How's Major Carter handling the news?"  
  
"She's holding up," Jack answered, finally turning to face the general. "You know the major; she's a trooper."  
  
"Is she taking time-going to see her brother?"   
  
Jack sighed. "She doesn't know what she's going to do yet. She wants to wait until the situation here is resolved first. I think she needs time to work out how to break the news."  
  
"That's understandable. How are you holding up Jack?"  
  
"Me? Just peachy sir," Jack retorted.  
  
"I'm sure," the general replied. "Now how are you really doing?"  
  
"Really. I'm fine. Things have quieted down. The gate's up and running. I'm just waiting for one final maintenance check before activating it again. I've got SG4, 6 and 7 lined up to go through to contact some of our more trusted allies-see if any of them can check on the Tok'ra and see if they've heard of the Menax."  
  
"Sounds like you've got everything under control."  
  
"Yes sir. How are feeling sir?" Jack asked.  
  
"Better. Thank you. Looking at another few days before the doctor releases me, and then it's just to my house to recuperate. Think you can keep the reigns for a while yet?"  
  
"Sure, sure," Jack answered distractedly. He tapped his fingers on the bedside table and shifted in his chair.  
  
"What's on your mind Jack?" the general asked again.  
  
Jack finally sighed and leaned towards the general. "The Tok'ra. They just don't quit," he said, exasperated. "Guards were called to the infirmary where Doctor Carter was being sedated because our guest decided to put the squeeze on-tried to convince the doc that his life was essentially over and hey, why not be a host since he had nothing left to live for."  
  
"Surely you're exaggerating Colonel. We may not always see eye to eye, but I can't imagine them being so insensitive," the general objected.  
  
"We are talking about the same Tok'ra, aren't we sir?"  
  
"Colonel," the general's voice held a note of warning.  
  
"All right. Maybe he wasn't that direct, but the doc was hysterical when he was through, so it was pretty bad. I've banned him from further contact with the doc and he isn't allowed anywhere near the infirmary," Jack continued.  
  
"Sounds fair." The general yawned and then blushed. "Excuse me."  
  
Jack rose and turned to the door. "I think that's my cue to leave you in peace."  
  
As Jack opened the door, a body pushed at it from the other side. "What the?"  
  
Daniel stumbled into the room and steadied himself on the doorknob. "Sorry, sorry! Jack, we have a situation in the infirmary."  
  
"Is Zophra at it again?" Jack exclaimed.  
  
"Actually, John asked to see him Jack. I think he's going to do it," Daniel huffed, still catching his breath.  
  
"Okay, this has gone far enough. I need to get down there and put a stop to this," Jack said, squeezing past his teammate.   
  
Daniel floundered in the doorway. "General, good to see you looking better," he called out as he dashed after Jack.  
  
"It's a damn circus around here," the general muttered before easing into an upright position. "Lieutenant!" he called out. "Get me a wheelchair, I need to get to the infirmary."  
  
TBC 


	19. SOSN19

*See part one for disclaimers.  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part 19  
By: Victoria May  
  
The hallway outside the infirmary was crowded with Janet surrounded by SG1, two guards and the duty nurse. The steel door to the infirmary was closed, the guards stationed in front of it. Janet stood before them, her hands raised, trying to calm the SG team.  
  
"Doctor, what's going on here?" General Hammond demanded, as soon as the Lieutenant wheeled him near the infirmary.  
  
Janet turned away from Jack to face him. "Sir, you shouldn't be out of bed yet, let alone out of the isolation room. You're still vulnerable to infection. Lieutenant, take the general back to his room please," she added, addressing the officer behind the chair.  
  
"Lieutenant, belay that order!" the general snapped. "Doctor, I assure you, I'm fine. At the moment, I believe the situation calls for my presence. Now would someone please explain what, on God's great earth, is going on here?"  
  
Jack stepped forward, pushing past the doctor. "Sir, I told you Zophra was up to no good. I should have thrown him in the brig the first time he tried to pull this."  
  
"Colonel, no one is 'pulling' anything," Janet interjected. "As I've already explained, Doctor Carter asked to speak with Zophra."  
  
"Why? Why would he do that?" Jack exclaimed.   
  
Janet sighed and folded her arms across her chest. "Let me explain something. Doctor Carter's injury is severe . . ."  
  
"You think I don't know that? I know that," Jack defended.  
  
"Please, Colonel. As I was saying, his injury is severe-debilitating. There is no way to correct this. There is no surgery, no amount of rehabilitation or training that will reverse the damage done to his brain. While he will not be stripped of his title, Doctor Carter will no longer able to practice medicine in the conventional sense."  
  
"But surely there's some way to remain in his profession," Sam commented.  
  
"True. Doctor Carter could act as a consultant, conduct research and publish his findings, act in a supervisory sense. But none of these things appeal to John. When I recruited John, he was working in emergency medicine. Before that, he was training to be a surgeon. That is his chosen profession. Treatment, hands on. Not looking over some intern's shoulder or having a research assistant transcribe his dictated notes and read the latest journals to him.  
  
"While it may not be ideal, Zophra offered John an alternative to what he sees as a life sentence. He hasn't made a decision yet, but he is asking questions now that he's had time to think it over."  
  
Janet slowly looked from person to person, meeting each pair of eyes before continuing. "Can any of you really justify taking this option away from him?"  
  
Sam blinked quickly, fighting to control the tears that threatened to run over. Daniel hung his head, turning slightly to the side and avoided meeting anyone's gaze. Teal'c stood straight, his head bowed slightly, a look of intense focus on his face.   
  
Jack clenched his fists and scuffed at the floor with the toe of his boot. "I like him!" he exclaimed, gesturing towards the infirmary door. "I don't like this option," he added, equally vehement. Warily, he held up his hands, as if trying to placate the small crowd. "Despite that, I do understand. But, damnit, I'm not going to stand here and wait for him to get a snake in his head." Turning on his heel, he strode down the hallway, calling back over his shoulder, "I'll be in my office. Someone tell me when it's over . . .."  
  
"Doctor," the general said, drawing attention back to the small group. "Is Doctor Carter giving this serious consideration?"  
  
Sighing, Janet let her arms drop to her sides. "Yes Sir, he is."  
  
"Does he understand the implications if he decides to go through with this?" Hammond asked.  
  
Sam answered this question. "Sir, I've discussed this with John, when I told him about dad." She paused, struggling to remain composed. "He understands that in all likelihood, he will be asked to rejoin the Tok'ra, not remain with the SGC or on Earth."  
  
"Are you certain of that?" Hammond pressed.  
  
This time Daniel answered. "When we went over the history of the Tok'ra and their objectives, we discussed their policy regarding the Tok'ra and their fight. He knows that no Tok'ra has ever allied themselves with another race to the point of joining their culture. It's unheard of."  
  
"I'm sure he'll take that into account, Sir," Janet said.  
  
At that moment, the door opened behind the guards and Zophra appeared. "Doctor, a moment?"  
  
Janet slipped through the door and the few gathered outside shifted nervously. After several minutes of tense silence, the door reopened and Janet stepped out. She stood and surveyed the faces before her, before turning to the general.  
  
"Sir, he's agreed."  
  
The general nodded solemnly. "When?"  
  
"If we're going to do this, we have to do it now. The symbiote is dying and if we wait any longer, it will be too weak to complete the bond."  
  
"All right. Is there anything we should know beforehand?" the general asked.  
  
Janet nodded and wrung her hands subconsciously. "This transfer will not be easy. Because the symbiote is so weak, its ability to heal the damage it creates as it attaches to John's brainstem will be diminished. It will heal, but slowly. Once the bond occurs, the symbiote will grow stronger and in turn heal the damage it caused. In the meantime, John will be in considerable pain."  
  
"Isn't there anyway to avoid that?" Sam asked, shocked.  
  
"I'm going to anesthetize John before the transfer and afterwards he will be given pain medication as needed."  
  
Daniel frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. Beckoning to Janet to join him further down the hallway, away from the others, he asked, "Um, isn't that dangerous?" he asked vaguely, alluding to John's addiction.  
  
Janet shook her head. "I explained John's situation to Zophra, and he assured me that it won't be an issue after the transfer."  
  
Daniel snorted, then blushed crimson. "Sorry," he apologized. "It's just that, the Tok'ra aren't exempt from addiction any more than the goa'uld. What makes Kenric any more capable of withstanding the need of addiction?" he asked.  
  
"That's a good question Daniel. As Zophra explained it, John's addiction was a physical addiction. The symbiote will counter any physical urges the body will have for any addictive substance."  
  
"How is that different than the effects of a sarcophagus?"   
  
"The addictive effect of a sarcophagus is much stronger on the physiology of a non-host. A joining, such as the goa'uld or the Tok'ra would be affected, only at a much more gradual rate.   
  
"Also, Kenric has not been exposed to the addiction. As Kenric will be regulating much of John's physiological responses, it will also be maintaining those chemicals that prompt the urge for intoxication. Perhaps if John were to abuse an addictive substance while joined, Kenric might also be at risk for that addiction. It's really a question I don't have a good answer for."  
  
"Thanks Janet," Daniel said as they rejoined the group.  
  
"Well, if no one has any further questions, I have a patient waiting. General, it would be best if you returned to your room. The rest of you won't want to wait either. I'll be restricting access to the infirmary until after I am assured that the transfer was successful." When no one else sought out her attention, she nodded and, along with the duty nurse, disappeared back into the infirmary.  
  
*****  
  
"Is it over?" Jack asked as Daniel slipped into the chair across from his desk.  
  
"I don't know. Probably," Daniel answered. The younger man pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. "I am so tired," he sighed, sinking back into the chair.  
  
"It's been hard. This entire week-just one long nightmare," Jack commented.  
  
"So, what've you been up to?" Daniel asked.  
  
Jack jerked his head towards the far wall and Daniel turned, taking in the scattering of crumpled papers around the gray, institutional garbage can.  
  
"Mmn, great shot."  
  
"Wa'nt nuttin'" Jack replied idly. The two men sat in silence for a bit, before Jack finally said, "You know, they're going to have to stay on base for awhile."  
  
Daniel's eyebrows shot up.  
  
"Well, at least until we get word from or about the Tok'ra. Their gate's not dialing. Unless we can get word through or one of our allies can get there in a ship, Zophra and Kenric are stuck with us."  
  
"I'm going to miss him," Daniel said.  
  
"He's not gone yet!" Jack exclaimed.   
  
"I know, but he just moved in. I'm just getting to know him. We have an amazingly lot in common," Daniel said quietly.  
  
"I'm sorry. I know you guys got to be pretty good friends."  
  
"What's going to happen to him?" Daniel asked.  
  
"He'll go, get his mind twisted around until he believes all their crap, and live happily ever after," Jack said snidely.  
  
"Jack . . ."  
  
"Sorry, sorry."  
  
"He's not like Jacob. He's not going to be able to just go and adapt. He'll be lost out there!"   
  
"Daniel, he'll be fine."  
  
"Will he? He's a doctor Jack. I don't think the Tok'ra were advertising for one of those. He's still going to have to give up everything he lives for-and for what? To spend the rest of his extended life fighting and hiding out in those caves. It's not fair," Daniel bemoaned.  
  
"Of coarse it's not fair, Daniel. Life's not fair. You should know that better than anyone," Jack snapped back.  
  
Daniel looked at his friend and team leader in shock. "I can't believe you just said that." He pushed back his chair. "You know what, I'm just going to go now, before one of us says something really stupid."  
  
Jack stood as his friend reached the door. "Daniel, wait."   
  
The younger man paused, his hand on the doorknob.  
  
"I'm sorry. I'm tired, overworked, and this sucks, okay? I'm not any happier about it than you are, but there's nothing we can do. The doc made his decision. It's done." Jack slumped back into his chair. "Go home. There's nothing you can do now."  
  
Daniel leaned his forehead against the cool door and nodded. "I'll be in my office."  
  
Jack started to protest and Daniel raised his hand, silencing him.  
  
"I can't go home right now, okay? Not yet."  
  
"Okay, I understand. And Daniel? For what it's worth, I really am sorry."  
  
Daniel nodded again and opened the door. "I am too Jack. I'll talk to you later."  
  
*****  
  
"Doctor Fraiser has sent you away?"  
  
Turning away from the infirmary door, Zophra said, "Yes. After the transfer, she said I was not needed."  
  
Teal'c tilted his head and clasped his hands together. "It will be a long wait. Perhaps you would like to join me for nourishment?"  
  
Zophra narrowed his eyes. After days of dealing with narrow-minded Tauri, it took a Jaffa to show him kindness. "Thank you, I am hungry."  
  
Teal'c bowed his head and began to walk towards the dining hall. "Are you and Kenric close?"  
  
"Very. He is my brother."  
  
"Are not all Tok'ra your brother?" Teal'c asked.  
  
Smiling grimly, Zophra explained, "That is true, however, Kenric and I, we are . . . more."  
  
"In what way are you 'more'?"  
  
Zophra stopped walking and turned to face Teal'c. "We developed from the same egg. We are the same."  
  
"Impossible!" Teal'c denied, his eyes wide.  
  
Laughing, Zophra began to walk again. "On the contrary. It is very possible."  
  
"I have never heard of such an occurrence amongst the goa'uld," Teal'c commented.  
  
"Nor have I. But that does not make it impossible."  
  
The pair reached the dining hall and filled trays with food. Taking seats at a vacant table, Teal'c said, "Tell me about the warrior Kenric."  
  
Zophra smiled widely. "A warrior he is! We have fought side by side for many generations, battling the goa'uld. He is brave and mighty. He does not cower in fear before the false gods, nor before any other race. Yet he befriends our allies, assuring their trust. He is known and loved by many, feared by others. I am proud to be his brother!"  
  
Teal'c bowed his head reverently. "I look forward to meeting the mighty Kenric." The pair ate in silence before Teal'c spoke again. "Kenric will pleased to have a new host."  
  
Zophra did not answer; instead his eyes flashed and Terrin spoke. "Yes, Kenric will be pleased. He will also be in mourning. He was very fond of Drennin. Kenric is a strong warrior, but he also has a strong heart. He has loved each of his hosts and mourns greatly when they pass.   
  
"All Tok'ra are grateful for the sacrifice their host makes when they join. However, not all Tok'ra appreciate the uniqueness of their host. They see their host as merely a vessel and ignore the great contributions to be offered by the joining.   
  
"This is not so with Kenric. He is truly the embodiment of the Tok'ra ideal, spawned by their queen millenia ago. He has always strove to form the perfect union between host and symbiote. He forms a relationship with his host and creates an amalgamation of what each has to offer. So with each new blending, these skills continue.   
  
"It is not always easy for Zophra. Kenric's union with his host surpasses his bond with Zophra. Kenric claims it must be so. Zophra disagrees. He believes that the bond between brothers should come first. He does not accept that while sharing a strong bond with him, Kenric believes the joining makes him one with his host. Kenric will not have it any other way. A true symbiosis."  
  
Teal'c studied the man in front of him. "You have great insight into the mind of Kenric."  
  
"Thank you. I have spent much time conversing with Kenric-Zophra does not want to hear such things. There is one other thing that Zophra will not tell you. Kenric grows weary of the great battle."  
  
His eyes flashed again and Zophra growled, "Kenric will continue to fight by my side. He is a great warrior and the battle rages on. He will do what is right."  
  
Squaring his shoulders, Teal'c said, "I will continue speaking with Terrin."  
  
Glaring at the large jaffa, Zophra said, "As you wish."  
  
Terrin looked at Teal'c, his eyes soft and pleading. "Do not judge Zophra harshly. He is proud of his brother, but feels that Kenric's softer attributes will be seen as weakness."  
  
"I would like to hear more about Kenric," Teal'c prompted.  
  
"Of course. I'm sure you are concerned for your friend. Kenric will care for him, as he has all of his hosts. Kenric has partaken in many joinings. He has seen into the hearts and minds of each host. He has learned of the laws and justice of their cultures. Kenric likes to learn from them as well as from our allies."  
  
"It pleases me to hear this," Teal'c said.  
  
"Zophra, and many of the Tok'ra, are displeased. They believe that Kenric's allegiance may be drifting away from us."  
  
Teal'c leaned forward. "Has Kenric spoken of this? Does he wish to leave the Tok'ra?"  
  
"It is not done," Terrin said quickly. "He would be shunned."  
  
"Nor do the first prime of the system lords take up arms against the false gods, yet I have done so," Teal'c claimed passionately.  
  
Terrin's eyes flashed again. "Kenric has fought many battles and has stood at the front line, by my side. He has let thought overshadow action. But he would not turn away from his family, from the Tok'ra. He would not turn away from me." Without a further word to Teal'c, Zophra pushed his chair back and stalked from the room.  
  
*****  
  
"Hey, Ramirez, how're you doing? I thought you'd be gone by now," Lieutenant Ramsey greeted the Latina lab tech.   
  
"Hey Ramsey," Deanna said, walking into the nurse's open arms. After a brief hug, she stepped away and smiled weakly. "I'm flying out tonight. I decided to stay with my parents for a little while after the funeral. I came back to ask for an extended leave."  
  
"You didn't get no trouble, did you?" Ramsey asked.  
  
"No, I just had to fill out more forms. I think the air force lives on paperwork."   
  
The nurse pulled out a chair behind the control console and sat. "Have you talked to Michael's parents yet?"  
  
Joining him, Deanna nodded. "I spoke with his father. Ellen, his mother, was so upset they had to sedate her. Michael didn't have no brothers or sisters, you know? Poor Ellen. Michael was her only baby." Deanna lowered her head and began to cry softly.  
  
"Hey Deanna, don't cry. We won't talk about it any more. It'll be hard enough for you at the funeral," Ramsey said, stroking her hair. "Hey, I bet you haven't heard the news," he said, distracting the young tech.  
  
Deanna pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "No, what news?"  
  
"Doctor Carter is a Tok'ra!" Ramsey blurted out.  
  
"What!" Deanna gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "No!"  
  
"Yes. You saw his scans-he was damaged," he tapped his skull. "I heard he couldn't be a doctor no more so he agreed to be a Tok'ra-you know, that one they had floating around in the infirmary."  
  
Deanna just shook her head mutely, her eyes wide with shock.   
  
"Come on Ramirez, it's not a big deal. What's the matter?" the nurse asked, stunned by his friend's reaction.  
  
"The Tok'ra killed Michael. He's dead because of them, and now Doctor Carter's one of them! Why didn't anyone stop him? Why?" she cried out.  
  
"It was his decision. And what do you mean the Tok'ra killed Michael-you know that's not true. The Menax did that."  
  
"No! The Tok'ra let them get their code. They should have protected us. They act so high and mighty-I heard about all the crap they pull with the SG teams, manipulating to get what they want, while we get nothing. And Michael's dead because of them." The pretty woman dabbed at her eyes again, smearing her mascara. "I've got to get out of here. I can't hear about this no more. I'll pray for Doctor Carter-you tell him that! You tell him I'm praying for him, and maybe he won't have to be Tok'ra for very long."  
  
The young woman grabbed her purse and fled from the room. Ramsey shook his head in bewilderment, before finally getting up and following her out.  
  
*****  
  
"Doctor, he's waking up."  
  
Janet hurried to her patient's bedside and peered at the monitors. "Prepare 20mgs of morphine and have it ready, he's going to be in pain."  
  
The nurse walked to the drug cabinet and filled a syringe, placing it carefully on the tray next to Janet. She grabbed a cloth and ran it under cool water, before returning to John's side.   
  
"His vitals are good," she commented, as she brushed back a stray lock of John's hair.  
  
"Mmn hmmn," Janet murmured as she leaned over the bed. "John, wake up now. It's time to wake up," she directed.  
  
The pale face started to turn away, but stopped abruptly, a soft moan following. Then the thin eyelids flickered and opened, brown eyes squinting up at Janet.  
  
"Welcome back John."  
  
John opened his mouth but before he could attempt to speak, Janet placed her hand over his lips.   
  
"Don't try to talk yet. I bet your throat hurts, huh?" Fearful of further damage being done to John's spinal cord, they'd had the symbiote enter through John's mouth. In the end probably more painful, but less damaging considering the healing time it would take with such a weakened symbiote.  
  
John nodded and quickly grabbed at his throat. His eyes grew wide as he remembered why his throat hurt. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, but tears slid out and down his cheeks. Weakly, he shook his head and curled onto his side. He began to rock back and forth, snaking one arm over his head.  
  
"It's okay John. You're okay. You're fine." Janet grabbed the syringe and looked at the nurse. "Hold his arm steady." She injected the morphine and waited for it to take effect.  
  
When he was still, the nurse wiped his brow with the wet cloth. "He didn't seem too happy, did he?" she commented.  
  
"Thanks Theresa, you can go back to your regular duties now," Janet said, dismissing the nurse. Silently, Janet agreed with the unprofessional assessment.   
  
Janet peered down at the still form of her protégé and wondered what the future would hold for Doctor John Carter.   
  
TBC 


	20. SOSN20

__

*See part one for disclaimer

****

Something Old, Something New

Part 20

By: Victoria May

Jack sat at the bedside of his fifth team member and studied the young doctor's still features. It was strange to see him so still-so silent. The doctor had surprised him with boundless enthusiasm; throwing himself into his studies, his medical training, and his hand to hand and weapons training. Once Jack gave himself the chance to get to know the doctor, he found himself liking the man. 

It was disturbing to see such an innocent fall victim to the horrors of the SGC. Like so many before him, John had come with the eyes of a child. It didn't matter what nightmares they may have lived through before, the stargate was so beyond the realm of imagination that all that stood before it found themselves caught in its rapture. Only to have that bliss shattered, their lives destroyed. 

Something stirred inside him and Jack rubbed his chest. The black, gnarled finger of guilt was sliding along his spine and Jack wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and wish it all into oblivion. Had John known, really known what joining the SGC had meant? Had Jack failed to be the leader, the protectorate his position demanded? Would John have stayed, sliding into their lives seamlessly, had he known death's cold breath shadowed their every move?

Now, here he lay, still and lifeless. Caught in the possessive grip of the fodder that made up Jack's nightmares. The possession of body and soul—to trust completely or go mad, waiting for betrayal. To be caught in a living nightmare, while mind and body were flooded with another's thoughts—their beliefs. 

How much of John would remain once Kenric's thoughts, his memories, flooded John's synapses? Unlike Jacob, John did not have war in common with the Tok'ra firmly embedded in his brain stem. He'd seen death first hand, felt its icy grip tear at his own soul, but he wasn't a killer. He was a healer. He lived to preserve the very sanctity of life, not destroy it. 

Would the guilt that had grown like plaque within his veins, be the doorway to the destruction of his soul? Kenric would know the darkness John still clutched tightly inside, the fear he hides so well. The guilt amassed through a lifetime of loss and disappointment. Will he use that to his own end, shattering the confidence that had slowly grown and been nurtured by John's friends?

"Colonel, I didn't know you were here."

Jack nodded once, not turning from his silent vigil to greet the doctor as she neared.

"He's fine Sir. He's really doing quite well, considering all that he's gone through. His vitals are steady and his brainwaves are evening out more every hour. I've been tapering off his pain meds slowly. The symbiote must have been remarkably healthy prior to the attack—John's throat is healing quickly. By tomorrow, I don't think there will even be a scar." Janet glanced at the silent man and worked around him, checking John's vitals, in spite of the machines attached to the unconscious man's body.

Janet was startled when Jack broke the silence.

"What about his brain? Was it worth giving up his freedom for this?"

Janet sighed and leaned against the bed railing. "The damage to Doctor Carter's brain is permanent. We won't know how successful Kenric was at . . .'reprogramming' is as good as a word as any, John's brain. In essence, Kenric will be bypassing the damaged areas and rerouting the signals that aren't getting through. Unlike most symbiote—host pairings, Kenric will be acting as a part of John's brain.

"As for whether or not it was worth the risk, only John can decide that." Janet picked up John's chart and made a quick notation. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do."

Jack listened as Janet walked away, before clutching his short silver locks in his fists. "Damn it!" The older man released his hair and looked down at his sleeping team member. "This isn't over yet Doc, you can count on that." With that, he patted the slumbering man's arm and slipped from the still infirmary.

*****

__

"Do you fear me that much, that you persist in ignoring me? You have nothing to fear from me child."

"I am not a child!"

__

"Ah, but you are. Compared to me, you are but a wee babe. You are safe with me.

__

"What must I do to draw you out? Talk with me—the silence is maddening!"

"Maybe I don't have anything to say."

__

"I don't believe that. Your thoughts are practically frothing over with activity."

"Then maybe I don't want to say anything. If you can see my thoughts, help yourself. You will anyway."

__

"I would rather you talked with me. Tell me about yourself."

"Alright, if you insist on continuing this belligerence. Why did you join with me? Were you coerced? If you were, I am truly sorry. That is not our way. It can be remedied."

"Ah, so you weren't coerced."

"I didn't tell you that."

__

"But you did. I will not invade your thoughts John, but you must know, some thoughts, feelings, will slip through. It is unavoidable while we are joined. Your reaction just now was strong; I could not help but hear it.

"If you do not wish to be joined, I will find another—one who truly wants the joining. I will leave you alone now."

"No! Wait, please. I thought . . .I thought I wanted this. Now, I'm not so sure."

__

"Know that I am grateful, for you have surely saved my life with your joining. However, the joining is not a game. It is not for children to beg and bribe and cry for, until they are given, and then scream because it is not as sweet as they had imagined. It does not coat their tongue with sugar, but instead puts a sour pucker to their lips. Like greedy little children, have you begged and cajoled until you were given only to cry now that it is not so sweet?

"Do your lips pucker with disdain now that you have tasted of the manna and found it sour?

"Sniveling child. Hide in your darkness. I will find another to join with."

"Please, wait. Please. I didn't know it would be like this."

__

"Will you speak with me now?"

"I did not think so. Cower in your fear. I will wait."

*****

"Why isn't he awake yet?"

"He's undergone a great trauma Sam. We have to give him time to adjust—both his body and his mind have been affected." Janet gave the major an encouraging smile.

"It's not like . . .."

"Like it was with you and Jolinar? It shouldn't be. John chose to take the symbiote. However, he is still adjusting to sharing his mind and his body with another being. That takes some getting used to." Janet paused and sighed before tilting her head towards her office. Sam followed her into the small office and shut the door.

"I'll be honest. I am concerned about his initial reaction once the anesthetic wore off. He was frightened and in pain. He may have chosen this joining, but it was based on need, not desire. For John, this joining is just a means to an end. He wanted his ability to be a capable doctor returned to him. I'm not sure how much of the 'extra baggage' he really understood."

Sam's eyes grew wide. "You think he's changed his mind!"

"I think it's a strong possibility, yes. While his body is still recuperating from being invaded by a foreign body, he should be awake by now. I've reduced his pain meds to tolerable levels and they should not be keeping him unconscious. After everything he's gone through, to wake and find himself trapped with another being . . .I'm not sure he was ready to deal with that."

"Post-traumatic stress disorder?" Sam hazarded.

"Possibly, but depression for sure. That would explain his being still being unconscious. He's just not ready to deal with it all yet." Janet leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Maybe when he's had time to adapt somewhat. It's not as if we knew what to expect. Your situation with Jolinar doesn't even compare, and your father was with the Tok'ra during his recuperation."

"If he had a negative reaction to the joining, he's never told me about it," Sam said, blinking rapidly to clear the sudden welling of tears.

"Oh Sam. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. How are you doing?"

Sam dabbed at her wet eyes and shrugged. Tilting her head back, she stared at the water stained ceiling. "I haven't really let myself think about it. Not after . . .."

"Not after what Sam?" Janet gently prodded.

White, quivering fingers began to shred the tissue clutched in her hands, drawing her attention to the activity in her lap. "The night that I found out about dad, I went to John—I was looking for a shoulder to cry on, and he's been there for me since day one. He's gotten to be a really good friend."

"I know Sam; he's a good person."

Sam nodded and continued. "I poured my heart out to him that night. I never gave one thought to how he was feeling. He never . . .he never told me."

"About the brain damage?"

Nodding again, Sam went on, "I just lay there and dumped it all on him, and all the while, he was hurting just as badly and I never noticed."

"I don't think he wanted you to notice Sam. Whether you realize it or not, you helped him too that night. He was able to concentrate on someone else—something else, other than what he had lost. That was invaluable to him." Janet reached across the desk and gently squeezed Sam's hand.

"You have a right to grieve Sam. Don't hold it inside and let it tear you up. You loved your dad, and you were both healing bridges you thought were burned. Take some time for yourself. Doctor's orders." Janet smiled and stood.

Sam brushed one last tear away and nodded. Quickly hugging her friend, she turned and grasped the cold metal doorknob. With a quiet "Thanks Janet," she disappeared through the steel door.

*****

Daniel stood in the middle of his apartment and let his eyes roam over the haphazardly stacked boxes and misaligned furniture. After years of being alone, he'd finally opened himself and his home to another. And now, that person was leaving. Again. 

Why didn't he learn? Why did he insist on trusting someone enough to believe that they wouldn't leave him?

He'd had so many people in his life leave him, he'd grown accustomed to the loss. Why was this such a shock? He thought he'd grown complacent, so used to being alone. But knowing the closeness of another, sharing space, if even for a short time must have made him forget.

His gaze caught on a pile of books and folders strewn across the dining table. What was left of his 'spare' room. After spending hours collecting the stray papers, files and books from every inch of space in the area, he and John had uncovered a pretty livable room, with furniture to boot. 

He walked down the short hallway and leaned against the open door. John had been thrilled with the room—it had large windows and was flooded during the day with sunlight. The bed was large and soft. He'd had his meager belongings put away before the day was out and the room quickly reflected its new owner.

Daniel pushed away from the door and stepped into the room, vaguely feeling like he was trespassing in his friend's space. But a larger, aching part of him was grieving for the friend he was losing to the Tok'ra. 

A picture on the dresser caught his eye and Daniel lifted it reverently. It was of John and a man Daniel didn't recognize, but knew had to be John's mentor from Chicago. The man was tall, his skin dark, and his eyes piercing in his grim face. A man not to be reckoned with. The men weren't touching or even looking at one another. Both were dressed in suits—a graduation perhaps, or a hospital function. Both stood tall and confident—John's face lighting up the picture with a crooked smile, as if he'd found something amusing.

Daniel replaced the picture and glanced over the others. John with his arm around a pretty Asian doctor. John, in a crowd of doctors and nurses, holding rabbit ears over the head of a short, stern looking woman leaning on a crutch. John embracing a short doctor—nurse? The woman looked content in John's arms, both smiling and facing the camera. John had told him about her—Abby. A good friend, but also his AA sponsor. John confided that he was attracted to Abby, but she was already dating and living with another doctor.

Another picture hid behind the others and Daniel plucked it out. It was of an older woman, very genteel but with a gleam of mischief in her eyes. Daniel liked her instantly. It had to be Gamma, John's grandmother. Daniel sighed, replacing the picture behind the others. He had hoped to meet the woman John spoke of so passionately. Now, he'd never have the chance.

What right did he have anyway, basing his own happiness on what John could offer him? Why had he even cared to meet the people John cared so much about, but left to join their program? He had no right to intrude into John's life when he had nothing to offer the man in return.

Maybe that was why it had meant so much to Daniel. Was he looking for a family to replace his own, defunct heritage? Had he hoped that maybe Gamma would embrace him and replace his own errant grandfather? Foolish dreams!

Instead, he was left with the legacy of another life lost. Perhaps not to death, but a pale imitation nonetheless. Another mark on his scorecard of grief. If he hadn't known John's own history of loss and betrayal, he could have easily believed that somehow his own luck had tainted John. 

And now, he was alone again. Sure, he had friends, his team his only family. But he had dared hope for more and thought that finally, he could trust fate not to bite him on his ass.

Foolish Daniel, foolish!

Hopes and dreams only lead to betrayal. He knew, but he wanted so badly for it to be different this time. He wasn't a little boy waiting for his parents to come back. He wasn't the needy child hoping that this family would want to keep him. He wasn't the naïve student believing in the support and faith of friends and mentors. Nor was he the academic holding strong to his faith in his fellow scholars to have open minds and embrace his vision. It was all folly. But still he hadn't learned. He still let himself fall in love—with a woman, with a people living like reflections of the past. He'd let himself think he'd found a home. But it was all lies.

Why had he dared to dream again? How was he even capable? His heart had been torn so often, surely it must be pulp by now.

Daniel backed away from the pictures of a past that reflected happier times. His legs collided with the soft padding of the bed and Daniel dropped onto the soft spread. 

He was alone again. How was he supposed to survive this?

*****

"Kenric? I'm ready to talk to you now."

__

"Are you John? Are you able to step out of the shadows and let me see all that you hide so deep?"

"I don't understand. Why do you need to know everything? Why can't some things just be mine?"

__

"No, you do not understand. Many do not. It is difficult for me to keep your thoughts at bay. It is not natural. A blending is all encompassing. Your thoughts are my thoughts, and my thoughts yours. It is what a true blending is meant to be. I will not accept less. I am tired. You must decide soon or neither of us will have a choice. Make haste and waste time no longer."

*****

"General Hammond. Have you been released from the infirmary?" Teal'c walked quickly to join his leader as he turned into his office.

"Teal'c. Yes, the doctor has released me. I'm just gathering a few things to take with me to the VIP suite."

A thick eyebrow raised as Teal'c cocked his head to one side. "Are you not under orders to convalesce in your home?"

The general smothered a laugh at the antics of the proud warrior. Mother-henning him; Jack would be so proud. "I am. However, I was given the option of staying on base in a VIP suite so I can keep an eye on things."

"I will escort you," Teal'c said, taking the pile of folders from the general's hands. 

Hammond gestured towards a small, compact laptop computer. "The computer too."

Balancing his load, Teal'c followed the general down the drafty corridor. He kept a keen eye on his charge, ready to drop everything and sacrifice the small piece of machinery to come to his commander's aide. 

"My condolences on the passing of General Carter. He was a great warrior."

"Yes, yes he was," George agreed solemnly. "He was a good friend too." The pair reached the VIP suite and the general unlocked the door. "You can put those things on the table. Thank you Teal'c."

"It is my honor," Teal'c responded, bowing his smooth head.

"I was going to make some tea. Would you join me?" George offered. It wasn't often he found himself alone with the base's resident jaffa, and he felt guilty for not having made time to get to know him better. He was, after all, a member of the SGC's most elite team. He hadn't risen through the ranks—he would never lead an SG team. He had forsaken his entire life, his family and his home to join their fight. George shook his head. He should make the time.

"Please." Teal'c moved the pile of work towards the wall, clearing space for the general and himself. "I have a matter of great urgency I wish to discuss with you."

"Oh?" George carried two steaming mugs to the table, setting an assortment of tea packets between them. After selecting an orange flavored, decaffeinated tea for himself, he settled back to listen. "Go on."

Teal'c managed to maintain an air of decorum, while bobbing his tea bag in his mug. "It has come to my attention that Kenric may not want to return to the Tok'ra."

"What!" George shot forward in his chair, wincing instantly from the pull of his healing wounds. After a scolding look from Teal'c, he settled back in his chair. "What makes you say that?"

"I spoke with Terrin and Zophra yesterday, after the joining. Zophra, of course, believes his brother will return with the Tok'ra and again fight by his side."

"What does Terrin think?" George asked, curious as to what the man had said.

"Terrin believes that Kenric has grown tired of the fight. That he may not wish to return to the Tok'ra." Teal'c sipped his hot tea and waited for the general to respond.

"Do you think we can talk to Kenric—convince him to stay with the SGC?" George asked. He felt a glimmer of hope that he would not be losing the newest member of the SGC. A man whom George had taken under his own wing and protection. "I'd hate to lose Doctor Carter to the Tok'ra if there's a chance Kenric is willing to stay with us."

"Indeed. I believe it would be wise to ask Kenric to stay."

"Unfortunately, Doctor Carter is still unconscious and neither he nor Kenric are responding to verbal stimulation. We'll just have to wait for one of them to wake up." 

Teal'c stood and pushed away from the table. "I will go and speak with Doctor Frasier now."

George opened his mouth to protest that he was capable of making the necessary contacts, but closed it quickly as Teal'c frowned at him. A jaffa frown was nothing to scoff at.

"Very well. Carry on."

Teal'c contained his smile until he was safely in the corridor. As an airman approached, he quickly schooled his features, nodding tersely at the passing soldier. He had an image to maintain after all. 

*****

"What do you want to know?"

__

"You are willing to allow the joining to progress to its natural state?"

"I am."

__

"But you are still afraid."

"Yes, I am. You're not?"

__

"Wise child. You are right. I too fear."

"But you don't let it control you."

__

"Many joinings ago I allowed the fear to control me, as you do now."

"How did you stop being so afraid?"

__

"I have had lots of practice child. With each joining, I learn and embrace. I have learned not to fear that which I do not know. And when that fear is too great, I have learned to put it aside, so that it can not control me. You too will learn."

"I don't know. I haven't done too well so far."

__

"I will teach you. You will learn."

"I am afraid though. There are things I don't want you to see."

__

"I too have done things that have brought me dishonor. Do not be ashamed."

"Okay, what I really mean is, there are things I don't want to see. Things I've tried to forget."

__

"One can never forget child. You must embrace the past in order to overcome it. You still allow what is gone to control you."

"It hurts."

__

"The pain is a part of you. If you deny it, you allow it to thrive. You must acknowledge the pain, pay it tribute so that it can take its rightful place behind you. Instead, you carry it heavily upon your shoulders. I will help you."

"It's too hard."

__

"Trust me."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

__

"I will share with you as you share with me. You will see that no harm will come to you."

"Okay. Just, slow."

__

"It will take time—a lifetime perhaps. But we will do it together."

TBC


	21. SOSN21

This fic can be read in its entirety at:  
  
  
The chapter url is:  
21  
  
*See part one for disclaimer  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Part 21  
By: Victoria May  
  
Jack hurried down the gray hall and turned through the open infirmary door. Spotting his people, he asked, "What's going on?"  
  
"We're not sure Sir. He's crying one minute and smiling the next," Sam answered, turning to face her CO.  
  
"He's awake?" Jack moved closer, gently shouldering Daniel out of the way, and peered down at the doctor.  
  
"Ah, no. That's the weird thing. He's still unconscious," Daniel said, stepping back from the bed.  
  
"He's not unconscious Daniel. By all counts, he should be awake-there's nothing keeping him from waking up," Janet said, pushing her way into the middle of the small group.  
  
"So he's, what . . . sleeping?" Jack asked, lifting his eyebrows and staring at the petite doctor.  
  
"Well, that is how it appears, except for . . ." Janet gestured at John's face. "Of course, it is not unusual for someone in a deep state of R.E.M. sleep to cry or smile in conjunction with whatever it is they're dreaming."  
  
"So John Carter is dreaming," Teal'c stated from his corner of the bed.  
  
"It's possible," Janet conceded. "However, I believe it is a good possibility that John and Kenric are communicating."  
  
"So why aren't they awake?" asked Sam.   
  
"They're probably just getting to know one another Major," Jack answered.  
  
"You are very astute Colonel. We are indeed 'getting to know one another'."  
  
Jack's attention snapped back to the bed and he backed away in surprise. "Kenric?" he guessed.  
  
He wore John's face and it was John's head that nodded in acknowledgement, but it was definitely not John Carter talking. "Yes, I am Kenric. It is an honor to make your acquaintance Colonel. John has told me much about you."  
  
"All good I'm sure," Jack murmured, more to himself than the alien in his friend's body.  
  
"It was . . .enlightening," Kenric answered vaguely.  
  
"Riighht," Jack drawled. "So, he in there?" he asked, gesturing at the bed-ridden man.  
  
"He is," Kenric agreed. "He is, however, engaged at the moment."  
  
Daniel backed away from the group, ignoring the tense bantering between Jack and Kenric. It was too much. Too hard to see his friend's body being used-like his precious Shau're had been. Like Jolinar had used Sam. Was Kenric like Jolinar? They had no way of knowing. They only knew what the Tok'ra told them. They were forced to follow blindly, putting faith in a race only separated from the Goa'uld by a sliver of humanity.   
  
Could Kenric be trusted? Was John really okay? After all, it was Kenric who had awoken from the intense healing sleep. Not John.  
  
"Hey, you okay?" A gentle touch on his elbow drew Daniel's attention back to the busy room. He turned and managed a small smile for Sam.  
  
"Yeah, just . . ." he shrugged, not knowing how to explain all the emotions raging through his mind and body.  
  
"It's overwhelming. I know," Sam assured him. "I keep looking at him and waiting for him to make some sort of demand."  
  
"He's not Jolinar," Daniel was quick to reassure his friend, despite his own doubts.  
  
"No, he's not. But we don't know who he is," Sam countered.  
  
"And we will not, until sufficient time has passed and we have gotten to know him. Is that not the custom on Earth when meeting new friends?" Teal'c's steady voice drifted over their huddled shoulders.   
  
Sam turned to their friend and was startled by the intense look in his dark eyes. "Of course it is Teal'c. It's just, we're not exactly batting a hundred here," she said.  
  
Teal'c stepped closer, his voice drowning out the murmur of voices behind them. "I do not understand in what context baseball is related. I do know, as do each of you, that one should not be judged by outside appearances."  
  
Daniel resisted the urge to squirm when Teal'c's gaze landed on him. He felt as though the Jaffa were boring a hole through his head. He was ashamed that he was treating Kenric the same as he had been treated-the same as Teal'c had been treated upon their return from Chulak.   
  
Steeling himself, he met Teal'c's eyes. "I understand what you're saying Teal'c. I really do. I just don't know if I can accept this. The Goa'uld have already taken the most precious thing away from me. How can I accept it happening again?"  
  
"Kenric is not Goa'uld. He did not take John Carter by force. Was it not I who took Shau're from you? Do you condemn me-was your forgiveness a lie?" Teal'c accused.  
  
"No! Of course not Teal'c. You know that."  
  
Teal'c bowed his head. "Indeed I do. Yet, while you forgave me that atrocity, you now compare Kenric to the false gods. Once they were brethren of the Goa'uld, but no longer. Do not judge one, by the other."  
  
"Leave the child be. I understand his fear. It is only natural."  
  
Teal'c turned and allowed the small group a view of the bed and the man in it. He was sitting propped up on pillows and his face showed only concern.   
  
"I am not offended. In time, I hope we will be friends." He offered a small smile, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "John will be with you soon. He has nearly completed his task."  
  
Daniel looked at the man wearing his friend's face. His stomach rolled and he shuddered. "I'm sorry," he gasped before lurching for the door. Sam moved to follow.  
  
"Let him go."  
  
"But Sir!" Sam protested.  
  
"That's an order Major! He'll be fine. He just needs to work this out for himself. We can't do that for him," Jack replied.  
  
"'Fine's' a dangerous word."  
  
"John?" Sam rushed forward.  
  
"In the flesh," the young doctor replied, with a cocky grin. "Someone really should go after him," he added.  
  
Jack sighed. "Ah hell. All right. Look, I'll go talk to him. But then you and I are going to have a long talk."  
  
"And Kenric."  
  
Jack rolled his eyes but nodded. "And Kenric. Can't wait," he muttered as he passed Sam. She only smiled and took his place next to John.  
  
'My own team, patronizing me and bossing me around', he thought as he wandered out into the hall.  
  
Janet stepped up next to the bed and removed her penlight. "How are you feeling John?"  
  
John closed his eyes and concentrated on his body. It felt normal. He opened his eyes and shrugged. "I feel fine-for real," he added, catching Janet's frown. "My throat's a bit scratchy, but otherwise I feel okay."  
  
Janet flashed her light into his mouth and then moved on to his eyes. "Well, your throat is almost completely healed. There's just a small scar left. I'm sure by tomorrow even that will be gone." Pocketing her light, she turned to Sam and Teal'c.   
  
"I'm sorry Sam, Teal'c. Now that both John and Kenric are awake, I want to run some tests. Be sure everything's as good as it looks." After some grumbling and promises to come back later, the pair left the doctors to their tests.  
  
*****  
  
"Your brother is awake."  
  
Gray eyes flashed brightly as they looked away from the cold meal in front of him. "Why was I not informed?" Zophra demanded.  
  
Teal'c stood in front of the angry Tok'ra. Clasping his hands calmly behind his back, he answered. "It has only just occurred. Doctor Frasier is with him now. She will notify you when her tests are complete."  
  
The Tok'ra's eyes flashed again. "Please, sit Teal'c," Terrin offered, gesturing towards an empty chair.  
  
Teal'c nodded and sat. "He appears of good health and spirits," he commented.  
  
"My brother is nothing if not strong," Zophra answered.  
  
"What will you do if we can not make contact with your people?" Teal'c asked.  
  
"We have allies. I will contact one to retrieve us and they will aid us."  
  
"I believe you would be welcome to stay with the Tau'ri," Teal'c informed his companion.  
  
"The Tok'ra will want to know we have survived. We must rejoin the fight."   
  
Both men sat quietly for a moment. Then, Zophra asked, "Will you be extending the same offer to Kenric?"  
  
"Yes, he is also welcome to stay," Teal'c answered.   
  
"Foolish trickery," Zophra spat. "Why would the Tau'ri wish for Tok'ra to remain?" he demanded.  
  
"It is a generous offer," Teal'c answered. "The Tau'ri are slow to trust. You should be honored they have made such an offer."  
  
Zophra sneered. "It is because of the young one. They do not wish their friend to leave. He has made his decision. No one forced the joining."  
  
"No?" Teal'c countered, but did not press the issue. "You can not deny that without John Carter, Kenric would be dead."  
  
"You speak the truth. You do not want the young one to leave. I do not want Kenric to stay."  
  
"It seems we are at an impasse," Teal'c answered grimly.  
  
"So it seems."  
  
*****  
  
A knock at the steel door startled the general and his pen veered to the side, leaving a ragged mark across his paper. Looking down at the ruined document, he frowned and called out, "Come!"  
  
The door opened and George lurched to his feet when he caught sight of his visitor.  
  
"Doctor Carter!"  
  
"General," John greeted the older man. "Please, General, sit down," he said, rushing to the general's side. He helped the convalescing man back into his chair and claimed the empty seat at the table.  
  
George grabbed the phone and began to dial. "You should be in the infirmary. I know Doctor Frasier didn't release you." The phone rang on the other end of the connection and George waited for Janet to answer. After a short conversation, he returned the phone to its cradle and turned back to face John.  
  
John grinned. "No, as I'm sure Janet explained, I'm just out on good behavior. I wanted to see you-let you know myself, how the joining went."  
  
"And?" George pressed. He studied the young man in front of him. It was difficult to tell that the man had been so grievously injured only a few days ago. The man sitting in front of him was full of vitality. It made him feel old. His own injuries were healing well, but the pain of healing was a constant companion.  
  
"It was successful," John supplied.  
  
George sat back in his chair. Some of the vigor had just disappeared in an instant from the younger man. "Go on," he encouraged gently.  
  
John shrugged and ran his hands over the top of the table. "It was difficult," he finally admitted.  
  
"Difficult, how?"  
  
Offering a small smile, John explained, "To put it bluntly, I freaked out. It was a little too late to change my mind though."  
  
"You were joined," George stated, unsure in light of this new information.  
  
"I'm joined-we're joined," he amended. "I'm still working on the acceptance thing though. It's easier now that Kenric and I have spent some time together-gotten to know each other, so to speak."  
  
George nodded. "Your injuries?"  
  
His grin was wide as John explained; "I can read and write. I can identify what I'm touching without looking. As Janet explained it, and Kenric agrees, my brain is still damaged. Kenric is intercepting the signals in my brain and rerouting them so they get through. He's acting, in a sense, like a part of my brain. My back is pain free as well. I never thought I'd ever be able to move again without some pain."  
  
"Amazing," George said. He looked closely at his newest doctor, noting the small lines around his eyes and lips. Leaning forward, he asked, "How are you really doing?"  
  
John shrugged. "I'm adjusting. I mean, no one said this was going to be easy. To be honest, everyone went out of their way to convince me not to do this. It was my decision-a selfish decision at that. I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to be able to work on patients. This was the only way to get that back." He fell silent, his fingertip tracing a faint line on the tabletop.  
  
"It's frightening sometimes-to remember something and then realize it's not my memory. Or to feel something and not know why."  
  
Reaching out, George laid his hand on John's arm. "I'm sure that can be very disturbing son."  
  
John nodded. "Kenric says it'll get better. He wants us to learn everything about each other, so there won't be any surprises. I'll know why I'm feeling something or reacting a certain way. He says that the Tok'ra don't need to be separate entities from their hosts."  
  
George frowned and pulled his hand back. "I'm not sure I like where this is going son. That's sounding an awful lot like the Goa'uld's way."  
  
"I'm not explaining this well. I'm going to let Kenric explain it," John said, before his eyes flashed brightly.  
  
George tensed and sat taller in his chair. "Kenric," he acknowledged the Tok'ra.  
  
"General Hammond, greetings."  
  
"Why don't you explain what John was talking about, because frankly, I wasn't liking the sound of it," George declared.  
  
"Of course General. Please, let me assure you that I mean John no harm. He is still struggling to understand the joining."  
  
"As am I," George interjected.  
  
"First, understand that John will not be repressed in any way. I honor the gift of life on which he has bestowed me. It is not the Tok'ra way-it is not my way to destroy the identity of my host. He will have his thoughts and I will have my thoughts. His feelings and my feelings will be separate. But it can not be denied that we will each experience the feelings and thoughts and memories of the other. It is natural with the joining.   
  
"This can cause a very disturbing effect unless those joined are well versed in the knowledge of the other. When John remembers his family, I will remember and experience those same feelings that accompany the memory. I will not be surprised if John is angry, or sad, or elated. And the same will be when I remember and John remembers as well.  
  
"I find it comforting to have another share my feelings. I know that John, too, tends to hold his feelings tightly within him. It is not healthy. But together, we will help each other."  
  
George studied the man in front of him. Undoubtedly, Kenric was much more confident than the doctor. It showed in his very demeanor. But could it all be a rouse?  
  
"That's all very well and good, but how do I know you're telling the truth?"  
  
Kenric's eyes flashed and John answered, "Because I'm telling you it's the truth."  
  
George sighed. "Doctor, it's not that I don't believe you, or Kenric, it's just not the usual attitude we get when we're dealing with the Tok'ra."  
  
"I understand that General. But I know that Kenric means what he says. I have had time to . . . 'experience' his memories. And they are different than much of what we have come to know of the Tok'ra. And it has been a problem for him in the past. He has different ideals-places a higher value on life than the others. But they are his people. It's his fight."  
  
"Teal'c informed me that Kenric may be persuaded to remain with us," George said.   
  
John's eyes grew wide and George felt a pang of guilt for building his hope without adequate reason. John shrugged and bit his lip. "I don't want to speak for Kenric, so I'll let you two discuss that. But just to throw my two cents in, I'd like to stay. I want to be a doctor, and joining the Tok'ra will mean fighting, not healing. But like I said, I made this choice."   
  
As he finished speaking, his eyes flashed. Kenric sat quietly, his eyes downcast. Finally, he ran a hand over his face and looked at the general. "I know you mean well. But it is cruelty to give him hope for the intangible."  
  
"Then it's not true, you don't want to leave the fighting," George asked, his hope deflated.  
  
"It is not a matter of what I want. I am Tok'ra. My place is with my brethren."  
  
"No one is denying your place amongst the Tok'ra. But you could do a lot of good here as well. It's not a secret that there is a certain level of mistrust between your people and mine. By joining us, acting as an ambassador of sorts, you can help ease relations between us.   
  
"If it helps, you can look at it as a vacation of sorts-a time out from the front lines. You're still in the war, still fighting on the same side, just from another angle," George extolled.  
  
Kenric looked amused. "You are a great orator, General Hammond. I will give great thought to your words. However, for now, my answer must still be no."  
  
George's face fell. His disappointment sat heavily in his chest. "I understand Kenric. I do. But please, think about this-discuss it with John. Decide together." George knew he was almost pleading, but he needed to know he was making an impression. Not just for John's sake, but for the lost soul in front of him as well. His thoughts must have been mirrored in his expression as Kenric stated with some bewilderment,  
  
"You worry for me as well? I am truly honored General Hammond of the Tau'ri. I have much to think about. John has something he wishes to ask. Goodbye, for now."  
  
After the usual glimmer of eyes, John felt himself come to the forefront of his conscious again. "General."  
  
George smiled warmly at the younger man. "He is something," he commented.  
  
"He sure is," John replied, more to himself than to the general. He sat quietly for a minute, gathering his courage. "General, I know this will probably go against every rule in the book, but I need to go home." There, he said it. After getting it out, he sat back in his chair and waited for the general to turn him down flat.  
  
Instead, George just smiled and crossed his arms. "I've been waiting for that."  
  
Wide eyed, John looked at the general. "You have?"  
  
"Of course. I understand what you're going through John. You may very well be leaving Earth-for a long time, if not forever. It's understandable that you want closure with your family and your friends."  
  
John nodded. The thought of leaving and never making amends with Peter or his family made him sick to his stomach. There was too much left unsaid. Too much anger. Too many feelings of betrayal. To leave-to let them think he was dead with so much unresolved. It was unbearable to think about.  
  
"I'd like to grant this John," George started.  
  
"But?"  
  
"No 'but'. Just one condition. You take your team with you. You're not the only one who needs closure. Not to mention I don't think the president will okay letting an alien roam around without an escort."  
  
John looked impressed. "The president," he murmured, smiling.  
  
"Yes, the president. I've already informed him of the joining. You are quite the celebrity in Washington," George said. "It's not every day we have one of our people join with the Tok'ra."  
  
John's smile disappeared. "No it's not," he said, thinking of Jacob Carter.  
  
"There are certain conditions of course," George continued. "You have to take the utmost precautions to keep Kenric's presence secret. No one must know or even suspect that you are anything-anyone, but Doctor John Truman Carter III. Understand?"  
  
"Yes Sir!" John responded. He fully understood the risks he was taking by going home. He would not let the general down. He stood and pushed away from the table. Reaching out, he shook the general's hand.  
  
"Thank you General." For everything, he wanted to say. For taking such a giant risk on him. For believing in him. For going out of his way to make John a part of the SGC and feel welcome.  
  
"You're welcome son. I'll make all the arrangements. I'll leave it up to you to let the others know."  
  
John nodded and turned to go.  
  
"Oh, Doctor Carter. One more thing. I know Zophra is Kenric's brother and how close they are, but this trip is for you. Zophra will remain on base."  
  
John tilted his head and stared at the general. He was grateful but he could feel the pang of regret from Kenric. Mustering a small smile, he nodded. "Yes Sir."  
  
TBC 


	22. SOSN22

This fic can be read in its entirety at:  
  
  
The chapter url is:  
22  
  
*See part one for disclaimer  
  
Something Old, Something New  
Chapter 22  
By: Victoria May  
  
"How's it going up here?" Jack asked as he lowered himself into the seat next to John. "Ahh! Sure beats flying civilian air," he added, stretching out in the plush seat and closing his eyes.  
  
John pulled his gaze away from the clouds floating outside his window and turned to face his CO. "Mmn, I hadn't really noticed," he answered.  
  
"Guess you're used to first class," Jack commented idly.  
  
John just nodded distractedly and turned back to his view of the open sky.  
  
"Something bothering you?" Jack asked. "Something other than the obvious, I mean."  
  
"I haven't had one back spasm this entire flight," John commented, his eyes still on the window.  
  
Jack's eyebrows rose. "And that's a bad thing?"  
  
"What?" John turned around to face the older man again. "Oh no, I was just expecting to feel something-I haven't been pain free since . . ." his voice drifted off.  
  
"Since before the stabbing?" Jack probed.  
  
John nodded in answer. "I forgot-that it wouldn't be a problem any more. It feels-well, I just wasn't expecting for my back to be healed along with everything else."  
  
"Doc, you do know you aren't responsible for what happened to your student, don't you?" Jack asked, wondering how he could have missed something so obvious.  
  
"My student," John repeated, the words rolling off his tongue sluggishly.  
  
"Lucy. For what happened to Lucy," Jack amended.  
  
"I was responsible. A teacher is responsible for his students. I wasn't being her teacher that day-I wasn't even listening to her," John confessed. "I blew her off and she died because of it. Because of me."  
  
"You've got a pretty big ego there," Jack noted.  
  
John turned and stared at him incredulously.   
  
"Were you the only doc around? Did Lucy know the procedure for disturbed patients? Weren't you still being supervised to some extent yourself? Where was your supervisor? Who was looking over your shoulder? There's plenty of blame to go around Doc; don't take it all on your shoulders."  
  
"But if I had just listened to her . . .."  
  
"Ah ah! No buts! You can't change what happened. You can just try your damnedest to make sure nothing like that ever happens again. Figure out why you acted like you did." Jack fell silent and studied the quiet man next to him.   
  
"Have you even dealt with this at all?"  
  
"I attended the mandatory counseling sessions in Atlanta," John answered, not looking at Jack.  
  
"Whoop-de-do!" Jack responded. "Big hairy deal," he added for emphasis.   
  
A voice from the back of the plane called out, "Sir? Is there a problem?"  
  
Jack rolled his eyes. "No Major, everything's fine," he called back. "Women," he muttered. He peaked over at John and was surprised to see a wide smile on his face.  
  
"Think that's funny do you?"  
  
"I find your by-play quite amusing," the rich timber of Kenric's voice answered.  
  
Jack jerked back, startled. "Geez, give a man a little warning, will ya?"  
  
"I am sorry, Colonel O'Neill. I will give, adequate . . .warning, in the future, before I speak."  
  
"No, no. My fault. I just gotta get used to . . .you," he finished lamely.  
  
Kenric smirked at the blundering human. "I understand."  
  
"Okay. Well, I hope John realized we're not done talking," Jack said.  
  
"He does."  
  
"Good, good. Listen, Kenric, since you're . . .here," Jack faltered. He'd never spent this much time in the presence of a Tok'ra, and frankly, trying to figure out the PC thing to say was beginning to grate on his nerves. "I want to go over what's expected of you during this trip," he finished.  
  
"Please, continue," Kenric encouraged.  
  
"Ah, well, what you just did-you can't do that. You can't just pop up and join the conversation. I know it's a lot to ask, but you have to let John remain in control unless I tell you otherwise. It's just too dangerous. No one can know about you. Got it?"  
  
Kenric nodded. "I understand."  
  
Jack arched his eyebrow and studied the other man's face. Not trusting that Kenric understood, he added, "Not in the hallway, not in an elevator, not in a restaurant, not anywhere. Got that? Maybe in the hotel room after I've checked for bugs and cameras. We can't risk having someone hear your voice or see your eyes flash. Especially not anyone John knows. It would just be too hard to explain away. Are you sure you understand?"  
  
"I assure you Colonel, I understand. John will remain in control unless you inform us otherwise."  
  
"Good, good." Jack twiddled his thumbs for a few seconds before pressing, "Are you sure you understand?"  
  
"Colonel, I think he understands," John answered.  
  
Jack glared at the younger man. "Where'd Kenric go?"  
  
John grinned crookedly. "I think he just wanted to give us a chance to finish our talk."  
  
"Oh, sure," Jack said nodding. "Look, I don't want you to think that I don't care, or that this isn't important. It is, but there's something else that needs to be resolved right now. As for all this-stuff-that's being dredged up because of this trip, well . . .until-unless you leave the planet, you're still under my command. So when we get back to Colorado, I'm setting up an appointment with McKenzie and you will attend. And if he says he wants to keep seeing you, you will go to his appointments until he signs off on you. Got it?"  
  
John could see that the colonel was serious and oddly, John felt comforted by that. Unlike last Spring when he was given a similar ultimatum, only then it felt different. No one had taken the time to talk to him, to treat him like a human being. Instead, he'd felt trapped, cornered like an animal. He'd been accused, tried, and condemned and the whole time he'd felt alone.   
  
He didn't feel alone any longer, and that made the thought of leaving tear through his soul. Leaving Chicago had been healing. He knew if he had stayed, he would have relapsed. The thought of leaving the SGC, leaving Earth, filled him with cold dread.  
  
"Be calm child. I have not taken you away from your home yet. Use this time to make peace with your demons. You will need to be strong for the fight that is coming." Kenric's presence was comforting and John felt his body relax.   
  
John smiled and turned his head towards Jack. "Got it."  
  
"That's it? You're not going to argue with me?" Jack was shocked. No one ever accepted the order to see McKenzie without a fight.  
  
John shook his head. "You're right. I have to deal with what happened or I'll never be able to get past it."  
  
Jack squinted as he studied the doctor. "Ooo-kay. Now that that's settled . . .. Have you talked to Daniel yet?"  
  
Sighing, John fought the urge to look back at his friend. "No. It's like he's hiding from me. He won't answer his phone and he's never in his lab when I check." John mulled silently and then added, "If I have to leave, I don't want to leave things like this. I thought I'd found a good friend, but maybe I was wrong."  
  
"Daniel! Get your butt up here on the double!" Jack's voice rang through the small plane.  
  
At the back of the plane, said archeologist cringed and cast a pleading look towards Sam. The look she gave back said he was on his own. Eyes downcast, Daniel crossed his arms and trudged slowly up the aisle.   
  
When Daniel finally reached his side, Jack snapped, "Didn't I say double time it?" Turning to John he continued, "I did, didn't I?"   
  
John just shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked away. Giving up on the doctor, Jack turned his ire back on the sullen scientist.  
  
"I thought we had a deal. You promised me you would talk to John, and here I find out you reneged."  
  
Daniel shuffled in the aisle and steadfastly avoided Jack's eyes. "I was busy," Daniel mumbled into his collar.  
  
Jack sprang out of the seat and pointed at it. "Sit down!"  
  
Startled, Daniel stumbled back and almost fell over the seat behind him. Jack grabbed his arm and steadied him before guiding him into the empty seat.  
  
"Comfy?" Jack asked. Not expecting an answer he continued, "Good, because you're going to sit there until this is resolved." Jack studied his younger friend and was surprised to feel a bitter disappointment in his friend. Leaning over, he said quietly, "I thought friendship meant something to you Daniel. Maybe I was wrong."  
  
"No!" Daniel denied, his head shooting up.  
  
"Prove it." The vehement tone of his voice shocked Jack as much as it did Daniel. He hadn't realized until now how much he relied on Daniel to show him that friendship and honor still meant something, after all the atrocities he'd seen.  
  
Not giving the two younger men another look, Jack made his way to the back of the plane and joined his second and Teal'c. He kept a wary eye on the pair, and was relieved when the tense silence at the front of the plane gave way to the occasional whisper, then blossomed into a full-blown give and take. When he'd seen the telltale glow of John's eyes, he knew that Kenric was also working to heal the rift between the two friends.  
  
Finally the plane reached Chicago. John and Daniel were talking and Jack felt himself relax for the first time since they set off on their journey. His kids were okay and he could finally stand down.  
  
*****  
  
"You ready for this?" Sam asked, standing next to John on the sidewalk outside Cook County Hospital's emergency entrance.  
  
John nodded and wrapped his coat tighter around himself to ward off the frigid wind.  
  
"You sure? Because, we could just spend the afternoon out here taking in the scenery," Jack added sarcastically as another gust of wind numbed his already pink ears.  
  
Grinning crookedly, John apologized, "Sorry, just prepping."  
  
As the group stood on the walk, the glass doors to the ER slid open and a mass of bodies tumbled out. Muffled curses and screams accompanied the flailing of arms and legs as the group pummeled each other. The doors opened again and a petite doctor rushed out, leaning heavily on one crutch and followed by four security guards. The guards separated the fighters and the doctor's voice rose, chastising the group for fighting in the ER. Her rant finished, she turned and stalked back into the ER. The guards followed, escorting the riotous group back inside.  
  
"Perhaps it would be advantageous to retrieve our weapons before embarking into this domain," Teal'c commented.  
  
Sam eyes widened as she caught sight of a teen slipping something into the hand of an older man. Both glanced around nervously and when the kid caught Sam's eye, he opened his jacket wide enough to flash her a glimpse of a gun tucked into his baggy pants.   
  
"You worked here? No wonder you took to the SGC so well," Sam muttered, turning away from the drug dealer.  
  
"Let's go inside," Daniel suggested, flicking his eyes around nervously.  
  
"I concur," Teal'c added, stalking towards the sliding doors. The rest of the group began to follow.   
  
Inside, the warmth of the ER washed over them and they began to pull off hats and gloves, shoving them into empty pockets. Around them, the ER was overflowing with the sick and injured. Coughs and the occasional moan of pain accompanied a myriad of voices. The waiting area was full and people lined the walls and floor. The frenzied desk staff were arguing with patients who no longer wanted to wait to see a doctor. It was a mad house.   
  
John looked around. The ER was exactly the same. He hadn't expected it to be different, not after only a few months, but it felt as though he'd been gone years.   
  
"Well, where to?" Jack prompted. Some of the people in the waiting room were giving him the willies, and he was a seasoned killer. But if that guy didn't quit giving him the eye . . .  
  
"Carter?"  
  
Jack spun around and studied the short woman approaching the doc. Her brown hair was held loosely by a clip and her purple outfit said 'nurse'.   
  
"Abby?" John opened his arms and embraced the small nurse.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Abby demanded, stepping away.  
  
John stuck his hands into his coat pockets and shrugged. "It was a last minute decision. You look great," he exclaimed.  
  
"I look like crap and you know it," Abby answered. "I've been here since last night. We got swamped with an MVA and the flu hit big. Yosh is out with it and Lydia went home this morning when the diarrhea started. I was supposed to go out with Luka tonight, but I think I'm going to go and crash instead."  
  
John listened to the all too familiar tale of life in the ER and shook his head, smiling. "I admire you Abby-for sticking it out down here."  
  
Abby shrugged and lowered her head, peeking up at John through a loose tendril of hair. "I just got used to it. I mean, look at you. You left surgery for the ER."  
  
It was John's turn to shrug. "I guess we both have a screw loose," he joked. He noticed Abby's eyes darting behind him and remembered his team. Smiling widely, he turned and pulled her forward. "Abby, these are friends from the base. This is Colonel Jack O'Neill, Major Samantha Carter, my roommate-Doctor Daniel Jackson-Ph.D, not M.D.," he added. "And finally, this is . . ." he floundered, not knowing how to introduce Teal'c.  
  
"Murray," Jack finished.  
  
John shot him a grateful grin and turned back to Abby.  
  
"Um, it's nice to meet all of you," Abby said. Turning to John, she smiled awkwardly, "I've got to get back."  
  
John nodded. "Sure. It was good to see you," he said.  
  
Abby smiled again. "You too. If you're going to be in town for awhile, call me. I'd like to get together-talk," she added.  
  
"I'm not sure how long I'll be here, but I'll call, either way," he promised. He watched as Abby disappeared back into the throng.  
  
A shrill whistle pierced his ears and he cringed, his attention drawn away from the departing nurse.  
  
"Malucci! Why are these charts still sitting here? I thought I told you to do the workups!" The short doctor with the crutch approached a brunette doctor and tossed a chart at his chest.  
  
Catching it one handed, he whined, "Come on Chief, I thought you were joking."  
  
"Frank! Do I joke?"  
  
"Hell no," the pudgy man behind the desk muttered.  
  
"And I thought Frasier was bad," Jack whispered to Teal'c. The dark man only nodded his head in agreement.  
  
John grinned and approached the dueling pair. "It's nice to see some things never change," he said.  
  
"Hoss! You get tired of those rigid military types already?" Malucci joked. His grin faded as an older man with gray hair approached and stood stiffly behind John. Another, larger man joined him and Malucci waved. "Hey, I didn't mean anything with that crack."  
  
"Relax Dave," John said. "They won't hurt you," he added.  
  
Jack kept his face impassive as he said, "She might," and nodded at Sam.  
  
Sam crossed her arms and stepped up next to John. "Rigid military types?"  
  
"Damn, where do I sign up?" Dave said, and whistled.  
  
Sam narrowed her eyes. "I could kick your ass a hundred different ways," she warned the cocky young doctor.  
  
"Oh yeah, bring it on baby," Dave said, leaning against the counter. "So you busy tonight?"  
  
Sam turned to John. "He's kidding right?"  
  
John just shrugged and shook his head. Turning away from Dave's antics, he smiled at his former boss.  
  
"Hi Kerry."  
  
"John, you look great," Kerry said, her voice softening as she smiled at her friend.  
  
John grinned and stepped forward, pulling the older woman into bear hug. "Thanks Kerry, I feel great," he said, stepping back.  
  
"Who are your friends John?" Kerry asked, looking interested.  
  
John introduced the group once again, not failing to notice Kerry's double take not only on Jack, but Sam as well. Hiding his surprise, he turned his attention back to Kerry.   
  
"Are you free for lunch?" he asked.  
  
Kerry glanced at her watch. "Sure, can you give me about a half hour? I have to finish with a patient."  
  
John nodded. "Um, is Doctor Benton around?"  
  
"Check upstairs," Kerry said, as she gathered up her charts and began to stride away.   
  
"I'm free for lunch," Dave said, reminding John that he was still standing there.   
  
His mind already occupied with forming what he was going to say to his former mentor, John just nodded absently. "Sure, sure Dave. Doc Magoos."  
  
A gentle touch on his shoulder brought him back to his surroundings. "Are you okay John?" Sam asked. "You just invited . . .that, to lunch," she said looking after Dave.  
  
"What, Doctor Dave? He's harmless. Besides, you could chew him up and eat him for breakfast."  
  
"Maybe, but he'd probably enjoy that too much," Sam said, shuddering. "I haven't felt that much like a piece of meat since the academy."  
  
"And you enjoyed every minute of it," Jack said.  
  
"Oh yeah." Sam smiled at her CO. "It's nice to feel attractive once in a while," she added.  
  
John glanced around the ER. "Well, I want to see if Doctor Benton is around." He began to head towards the elevators when a heavily pregnant Asian doctor walked out of the lounge.  
  
"Deb!" John called out, and began to push his way through a mottle of bodies to reach her.  
  
"John? Oh my gosh! I didn't expect to see you here!" She met John in the middle of the hallway and threw her arms around him.  
  
"Popular guy," Jack mumbled to Daniel.  
  
"Well maybe if you'd quit giving everyone the death glare, you'd be popular too Jack," Daniel retorted.  
  
"Hey, I'm popular," Jack protested.  
  
"I know you are Jack," Daniel soothed. "Everyone loves you."  
  
"That's because I'm such a loveable guy," Jack said flashing Daniel a wide grin. Daniel just rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to John and the pretty Asian doctor.  
  
After the third round of introductions was made and another invitation to lunch was extended, the group made its way into an empty elevator.  
  
"Lively place," Jack said, studying the young doctor with a new perspective. He'd known John had worked in Chicago, in an ER, but never had he imagined *this*. This madhouse-the mob of people waiting to be seen, the frightening, small, Napolean head of the ER. The gigolo moonlighting as a doctor. It was too-outrageous-to be real. And he'd thought John couldn't handle the SGC.   
  
The elevator pinged and the doors slid open, disgorging its occupants. Jack had to squeeze by a large woman with a walker who insisted on pushing her way into the elevator before he could step out, rolling over his foot in the process. He limped quickly to catch up with his small group.  
  
"You okay?" Daniel asked, seeing him limp.  
  
"Oh yeah, just an old war injury acting up," he lied.  
  
The pair caught up to John at the surgical desk. He turned to them and nodded towards and empty group of chairs. "I'll just be a minute. He's here but he's pretty busy. I'm going to go and see if I can get him to meet me later."  
  
Turning away from his team, he took a hesitant step towards the doctor's lounge, then another, until he had a steady rhythm going. He paused at the door and took a deep breath before pushing open the door. The room was quiet, only a few doctors were using the room. At the far side, sitting alone was Doctor Benton.   
  
John closed his eyes and tried to muster his courage. He was surprised when Kenric's voice spoke to him.  
  
"Relax child. You have surpassed any expectations this man may have had for you. You have seen and experienced far more than he could ever imagine. Be proud of who you are and how far you have come. You seek his blessing-that is well and good, but he can no longer guide you. You are on a new path, one of your own making. Shed your inhibitions John. Go and greet your equal."  
  
His courage bolstered, John approached the older man and cleared his throat. Peter glanced up and then returned his attention to his pile of notes.  
  
"Can I help you?" Peter's voice was tired and as stern as John remembered. John was surprised that Peter hadn't recognized him. He hadn't changed that much.  
  
"Doctor Benton, it's John Carter," he said, fighting the urge to shuffle his feet.  
  
The hand holding a pen stilled and finally the dark head raised, brown eyes meeting John's own. "Carter?" he repeated. The man standing in front of him was not the naïve, young doctor that he had taught. The man in front of him appeared confident and healthy and mature. Stunned, Peter realized he was staring and gestured at the opposite chair. "Sit down," he directed, moving some of his papers to the side.  
  
John sat and studied his old mentor. He looked exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were drawn into a tight line.   
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
The question startled John out of his observational fugue. "Just came for a short visit. I'll be leaving again soon." John fell silent and studied his folded hands. Finally, he sighed and said, "I was hoping you had time to talk. The way things were left . . ." his voice trailed off.  
  
"Carter, you make your own decisions. I can't give you what you want." Peter knew his voice was harsh, but he didn't need another confrontation on top of everything that had happened recently.  
  
"I don't regret my decision-just, I regret how we left things. I know I didn't make the choice you wanted me to make. I know I've disappointed you time and again. But I was doing what was right for me. But your teaching, your advice, it's meant a lot to me. I don't want to leave again feeling as though we'll never be friends."  
  
Peter shook his head. "Carter, we were never friends. I was your teacher, you were my student. That was all. Quit looking for my approval."  
  
"I'd like to think that we can be friends. Haven't I earned your respect by now?" John asked.   
  
That innocent question struck right to Peter's core. Why did everyone look to him as though his opinion meant something? Why did this rich, white kid who had it all care what he thought?  
  
"I don't have time for this," he growled, turning back to his paperwork.  
  
"Then meet me later," John pleaded. He had many relationships in his life that were so tumultuous that he didn't know where he stood-his parents, his grandparents, Daniel until just a short while ago. He wanted to heal some of those rifts. He wanted to know that when he left, knowing he may never see any of them again, that he'd left them on good terms. No regrets.  
  
"Please, it's important," he added quietly.  
  
Peter sighed and put his pen down. "When?"   
  
"Tonight. I'm leaving soon. I can come by your house, or you can come by the hotel. Whatever works."  
  
"Fine. I'm off at six. Come by the house at six thirty. I'm sure Reese will be happy to see you."  
  
Carter nodded and stood slowly. He held out his hand. Peter stared at him a moment before taking his hand.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
TBC 


	23. SOSN23

Something Old, Something New  
Part 23  
By: Victoria May  
  
"Well? Where to now?" Jack stood with his hands pushed deep into his pockets and eyed the young doctor speculatively as he walked out of the lounge.  
  
John paused for a second, biting his lip as he thought. Finally he shook his head. "I'm not ready to see Gamma and Grandfather quite yet. I'd like to see Chase though."  
  
"Chase-your cousin, right?" Sam asked as she approached her friend.  
  
Smiling as Sam laid her hand on his arm, John nodded. "I haven't seen him in so long. I know the family doesn't visit him often. He's an embarrassment to them." Dropping his head, he shrugged his shoulders. "Guess it runs in the family."  
  
John didn't hear the immediate protestations of his friends as an intense wave of rage washed through him.   
  
"Be silent child! Your pity is wasted bemoaning your misfortune. You must release what you have lost and look ahead. Only then can you fully heal."  
  
"Doc? You all right?" Jack grasped John's arm, supporting the doctor until he looked steady.  
  
Shaking his head, John smiled sheepishly at his concerned CO. "Yeah, sorry. Just got a little dizzy there for a second." At Jack's quirked eyebrow and disbelieving look, he mouthed "Kenric" and explained, "Just feeling sorry for myself."  
  
Jack nodded at the nurses manning the desk, and hurried his group towards the elevators. "Gave you a piece of his mind, did he?" Jack finally asked in the privacy of the small cubicle.  
  
John grinned and nodded. "Listen," he began. "You don't have to come with me. You can go see the sights, or whatever," he added at Daniel's grimace.  
  
"I'll come with you, if you don't mind," Daniel said. Chicago didn't hold much appeal to him any longer. Not like it had when he'd studied there. He'd enjoyed the museums, the clubs, strolling along Michigan Avenue and stopping at the pier for a little fun. But that was before he'd been shunned-outcast by his peers. He knew his old mentor and a few of his colleagues were still at the University, enjoying the limelight that had burned Daniel in its glare. His skin crawled just knowing how close he was to such an important piece of his past.  
  
Sam shot Daniel a knowing smile and slipped her arm around his waist. To John she said, "I'll come with you too. I want to meet your cousin. I know he's important to you."  
  
"Thanks," John answered. He looked at Jack and Teal'c. "I can give you directions to whatever interests you. Teal'c might enjoy the aquarium or the Museum of Science and Industry."  
  
Jack shook his head. "Been there, done that. I am pretty familiar with Chicago myself," he explained, shrugging. "I'll just tag along too."  
  
"Teal'c?" John said, turning to the silent jaffa.  
  
The large man cocked his head to the side and answered, "I too wish to meet your 'brother'. I shall accompany you."  
  
The many well-wishers at the hospital continued to stop John and the group finally made it to the rental car. It only took ten minutes to reach the hospice where Chase was staying. As they parked, Sam whistled.  
  
"Wow. This is really nice."  
  
"Only the best for the Carter's," John said, barely paying attention to the marble stairs and molded doorway as he passed through.  
  
John checked in at the front desk in the lobby before leading his friends to a room on the first floor. The room was brightly lit by the early afternoon sunshine pouring through the large French windows. A blond man sat in an overstuffed armchair, staring at a color television. On the screen, a cartoon played and the man laughed at the antics of a fat, yellow bald man.  
  
"Hey, the Simpsons!" Jack's voice boomed, as he threw himself on the bed to watch.  
  
The man in the chair jerked his head towards the doorway and John rushed towards him. "It's okay Chase. It's just me," he reassured the frightened man.  
  
"John!" the man cried out, wrapping his arms clumsily around his cousin. As John stroked his back, he suddenly tensed and pulled back. His head was turned, and he refused to meet John's eyes.  
  
John could feel a twinge of sympathy come from within. Kenric's interest in his cousin was strong and John could tell that the Tok'ra was 'remembering' Chase and their childhood together. He too experienced the memories and saw flashes of Chase as he was as a boy-exuberant and happy. He remembered the pictures his cousin had gifted him with as children, full of color and motion. For a second, he saw Chase and Bobbie, huddled together, conspiring-probably to pull some prank on John.   
  
The image was past but he was left with a feeling of guilt. He'd forgotten how close his brother and cousin had been. How they'd often team up and terrorize him in the fashion of older brothers pitted against the baby of the family. They'd been inseparable. They'd been best friends.  
  
John was stunned that he had forgotten such an important fact. But when Bobbie had died, he'd been so upset. His cousin's sudden presence in his own life was welcomed and unquestioned. But now he realized that Chase had stepped in where Bobbie had once been; that without realizing it, he'd taken Bobbie's place in Chase's life as well.   
  
The images in his mind became morose and dark. Chase, no longer full of vitality, skulking around the mansion when the family gathered together. Chase, dressed in black, his hair in disarray, like he'd lost his comb and didn't care to buy another. The dark pictures, depicting images of death. And finally, the photos, black and white, seeming to see into the soul, revealing the secrets of their subjects.   
  
His cousin had never recovered from Bobbie's death. He'd suffered then, and had been suffering ever since.   
  
"Poor, poor child," Kenric's voice rang in John's head. John's arm reached out, as if to touch-to comfort the still form in the chair. It was only when John saw his arm extended that he realized Kenric was in control. Kenric too, realized his mistake and the arm fell lifelessly to John's side.   
  
John glanced around, but no one seemed to notice the momentary loss of control. Sighing deeply, John dropped to his knees beside his cousin.  
  
"Hey Chase, I missed you. I'm sorry I was gone so long." John sighed as his cousin continued to ignore him. Nudging Chase's knee, he said, "Hey, I brought you something." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small green frog. Wiggling the frog in front of Chase's turned away face, he said, "His name's Smoochy, but you can call him whatever you want."  
  
Chase turned his head slightly to the right and gazed at the frog. Sliding his eyes towards John, he reached out his hand and snatched the frog. "It's a beanie baby," he muttered reproachfully. He then turned away and continued to ignore his cousin.   
  
Jack watched the scene from his spot on the bed and quickly gazed around the room. Sam had taken a step into the room and looked ready to rush to John's aid. Teal'c had taken position in the doorway, guarding the occupants from whatever dangers lay lurking in the heavily secured hospice. Daniel stood near the door, leaning awkwardly on the wall, trying not to watch the uncomfortable interplay of the cousins.   
  
Sighing, Jack scooted to the end of the bed, close to the man in the chair. "Hey, Chase. I'm Jack. Good to meet ya," he said, sticking his hand out towards the younger man. Chase looked at him wearily for a second before turning quickly to John.   
  
"It's okay. He's a friend," John said, relaxing now that Chase was no longer ignoring him. He watched as his cousin nervously shook Jack's hand and smiled when Chase began to make his new frog dance.  
  
"Hey, cool frog. Can I?" Jack held out his hand for the frog and Chase slowly handed it over. Jack wiggled the frog this way and that, finally twisting its little arms and legs so grotesquely he even had Daniel smothering laughter in his safe corner of the room.  
  
"You didn't come." The ice broken, Chase's voice cut through the laughter and he was now glaring at his cousin.   
  
John leaned closer and patted Chase's leg. "I know. I'm sorry. I don't live in Chicago any more. Remember? I told you I was moving. Far away, so I can't come see you anymore."  
  
"Not so far," Chase protested.  
  
"Yeah buddy, too far." John quickly looked away, blinking rapidly before turning back. "Gamma comes and visits though, right? And your mom?"  
  
Chase's lip quivered and John pulled him into a tight hug. "Hey, it's okay buddy."  
  
Pulling away, Chase lowered his head into his hand, hiding his face. "Tired," he muttered.  
  
"Chase-I have to leave again buddy. I love you. I won't be able to see you for a long time Chase."  
  
Chase took his new frog that Jack had finally surrendered and stared in its eyes. "Guess it's just Kermit and me then," he said matter-of-factly.  
  
"Kermit, huh?" John mused. He hugged his cousin one more time before taking a throw blanket off the bed and wrapping it around his cousin. "Love you."  
  
Chase smiled. "Love you John." He settled back in his chair and closed his eyes.  
  
John stroked his hair away from Chase's face before kissing his forehead. "See you buddy."  
  
The small group was uncommonly quiet as they drove away from the hospice. John tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and glanced at the small digital clock on the dashboard.   
  
"Guess we should head back to County for lunch," he said, breaking the silence.   
  
"John, I'm really sorry about your cousin," Sam began.  
  
"No! Please, I don't think I could stand an ounce of sympathy right now. I know it's not my fault that Chase is in that place, a fraction of the man he used to be. But I still blame myself for not trying harder to get him into a treatment center. I never told you guys this, but before Chase overdosed, he came to me and begged me to help. So I convinced a friend-a good friend, to help me and we detoxed him ourselves. He promised he would get help-that he wouldn't use again." John was silent for a moment. "I was stupid to believe that he would be able to do it on his own. And now, knowing how strong the cravings can be, I know I was wrong."  
  
"Hey! You're only human. Cut yourself a break," Jack snapped irritably back.  
  
"I was playing God! I'm a doctor-I knew better! He wasn't seeing a therapist, and he had no support from the family. Of course he was going to use again. It was his only way of coping. I know that sounds like an excuse, but he was using since we were kids. I don't think he ever learned a healthy way of coping with all the demands that were put on us. He just said 'Yes Sir', majored in economics, joined the family business and got high in his spare time. He was an artist but he put that aside to be what the family wanted him to be. I really don't know how I ever managed to do anything different."  
  
"You're not Chase," Daniel said.   
  
John sighed. "No, I'm not. And my family life was different. My family was torn apart when my brother died. My parents fought constantly, and my grandfather and father fought just as much. I don't think anyone really noticed until it was too late that I wasn't following the 'Carter family plan'."  
  
"So why are they so angry with you now?" Sam asked, daring to ask what had been on her mind since first meeting John.  
  
"They think I'm throwing my life away. While they never supported my becoming a doctor, they tolerated it. But after I got hurt, they practically ordered me to quit. Gamma offered to pay for a private practice so I could leave County."  
  
"Gee, I wonder why," Jack commented idly, rubbing his thumb across a streak of dirt on the window.  
  
Scowling, John continued. "I was challenged at County. I wasn't the rich kid with the powerful family backing me. I had to prove myself. I was successful-I proved myself. I was-am a good doctor. No one cared that I came from money. No, that's not true, but for once instead of being an asset, it made me work harder to be accepted. Having a trust fund doesn't save lives."  
  
"I still don't understand why your family turned their backs on you now," Sam pressed.  
  
"I don't either really. But I think it's because they finally realized I was never coming home. After the stabbing, even after I became addicted, they still thought I would come home and join the business. But instead, I did something even more extreme than working at County. I moved across the country and hooked up with the military."  
  
"Maybe they're just worried about you," Daniel offered.  
  
John shrugged. "Maybe," he conceded quietly. He slowed the car and pulled into a vacant spot on the grimy street. "Enough of the family memoirs, let's eat."  
  
The team clambered out of the car, each stretching and breathing in the fresh air. Jack grimaced and said,  
  
"Well, I for one can't wait to get back to clean mountain air."  
  
"Don't you mean, musty, recycled air?" Daniel quipped.   
  
John chuckled at the men's antics and led the group to the small diner across from the hospital.  
  
"Welcome to Doc Magoo's, Cook County Hospital's favorite noontime excursion," he said, opening the door for his friends.  
  
The group waiting for them was larger than the original three people he'd invited to lunch. Haleh and Chuny were lounging at the back of a large corner booth and Yosh was perched precariously on the edge of the bench next to Jing Mei. Mark sat next to Kerry; both on chairs pulled up to the table.  
  
John grinned broadly as he approached the boisterous group. He called out "Don't you people have lives to save?"  
  
Dave jumped, spilling cola down the front of his tee shirt. He grabbed a handful of napkins and mopped up the sticky brown liquid before twisting around to glare at John. "Shit Carter, give a little warning next time, will ya?" he growled over the sniggers and chuckles from the others at the table.  
  
Mark smiled and stood, offering his hand. "Carter, it's good to see you."  
  
"John," Kerry greeted, nodding her head toward him.  
  
Chuny and Haleh urged Dave out of the booth and took turns hugging John.   
  
"You look great Carter," Haleh said.  
  
John jumped as nimble fingers pinched his butt cheek.   
  
"Yeah, lookin' good Carter," Chuny agreed, flashing him a cheeky grin.  
  
John chuckled and turned as a hushed voice said behind him, "You'd better watch it Daniel, the Doc's going to steal your thunder soon if this little display is anything to go by."  
  
Motioning his team closer, he started the introductions. "Colonel Jack O'Neill, Major Samantha Carter, Doctor Daniel Jackson, Murray, this is Mark Greene, Kerry Weaver, Yosh Takata, Jing Mei Chen, Haleh Adams, Chuny Marquez, and Dr. Dave," he said, pointing to each in turn.  
  
After a bit of shuffling, another table was pulled up and the new arrivals were seated and sipping on drinks.   
  
There was a glint in Chuny's eyes as she leaned forward and smiled at Daniel. "Do you're a doctor too?" she asked.  
  
Daniel flushed and cleared his throat. "Ah, yes, but not a medical doctor," he explained.  
  
"Don't be shy Dr. Jackson," Jack chided. Grinning, he clamped his hand down on Daniel's shoulder. "Daniel's a doctor of archeology and linguistics."  
  
Chuny looked impressed and giggled as she sipped at her straw. Haleh rolled her eyes. Turning her attention to John, she asked, "Are they treating you well Carter? You can always come back to County. We miss you around here."  
  
John couldn't fight the grin that spread quickly over his face. His blush rivaled Daniel's. "I'm good, really. But thanks for the offer," he added.  
  
"Come on Carter, what's the dirt? What's the military really doing at those secret bases?" Dave urged. "They've got aliens don't they? Are they doing secret experiments? Dissecting little green men like they showed on 'Alien Autopsy'?"  
  
Jack and Teal'c exchanged looks and Jack nodded almost imperceptibly. Teal'c stood and towered over Dave.  
  
"Well, you guessed it. Unfortunately, that's top secret information, so if you'll just accompany Murray here . . .." Jack's voice trailed off as the group broke out in laughter at the terrified, wide-eyed look on Dave's face.  
  
"Relax Dave, they're only joking. But you were close. They specialize in deep space radar telemetry at NORAD, but I don't think they've had any little green men radio them yet."  
  
"So what do they need you for?" Dave asked, keeping one eye on the threatening man next to him.  
  
"It's a military base Dave. All bases have a medical center. Normally military personnel staff those centers, but the head doctor recommended me and they sort of bent the rules. I did have to sign a non-disclosure form, so don't ask what sorts of things I treat there. Although with all the equipment they've got there, think electrical," John hinted.  
  
"Pfft. Sounds boring," Dave huffed.  
  
John shrugged. "Well, it's not as glamorous as County, but it has it's benefits."  
  
Dave cocked an eyebrow and leered at Sam. "Yeah, I can see what you mean."  
  
Before Sam could retort, Jing Mei snapped, "Don't be a pig Dave."  
  
"So, what's the news around County? Deb, when's the little one due?" John asked.  
  
It was Jing Mei's turn to blush as she crumpled the napkin in her hands. "I've got a little less than two weeks left."  
  
"I'm sorry I won't be here, but congratulations," he said with a soft smile for his friend.  
  
Deb's eyes were glued to her lap as she sucked in a deep breath. "I'm going to give it up for adoption," she said quickly.  
  
"Oh." John couldn't think of what to say. What do you tell someone who's about to have a baby but is giving it away?  
  
"I'm just not ready for this responsibility yet," she explained.  
  
John reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "You don't have to explain. It's your decision."  
  
Her quick smile said it all and she leaned back in the booth, looking more relaxed.  
  
"You know that Doctor Benton's nephew died," Haleh probed and John nodded.  
  
"I heard Benton took in the girlfriend and Finch is pissed," Chuny added.  
  
"His nephew's girlfriend. She showed up at the hospital-she'd been beaten by the same bastards who killed his nephew." John stared openly at Kerry. He knew she and Doctor Benton didn't get along and to hear the vehemence in her voice was startling.  
  
A throat clearing drew everyone's attention. "Carter, I have something I'd like you to know, before you hear it through the grape vine." The group exchanged guilty looks as Mark continued. "I have cancer. Glioblastoma Multiforme."  
  
John was stunned. Of all the news he expected to hear, this didn't even come close. Shaking his head a little to clear the sudden roaring, he mumbled, "Are, are you treating it?"  
  
Mark clenched his hands. "I'm looking into a new treatment by a physician in New York."  
  
"How's Doctor Corday handling . . . everything?"  
  
Mark managed a small smile. "She's . . . Elizabeth. She's my strength."  
  
John nodded and blew out a breath. "Well, that's not what I was expecting," he commented.  
  
"Well, I'm not giving up," Mark said. "Anyway, I didn't mean to bring the mood down, I just thought you should know."  
  
"Thank you. For telling me, that is," John replied.  
  
The mood was ruined but John stayed and visited, exchanging stories with his friends, until the pounding in his head grew too strong to ignore. He rubbed his eyes before leaning forward, his hands on his knees.   
  
"It was great to see everyone again. I'm not going to be in town long and I still have to see my grandparents."  
  
After numerous hugs and handshakes were exchanged, John led his team out of the loud restaurant. He cast one mournful look back towards the people who had been his family, until his own tragedy tore him away. Now they too were wrapped in tragedies of their own. It was like some curse had befallen County Hospital and all who dared work within her walls.  
  
"You okay?" A hand gently squeezed his shoulder.   
  
John looked up into his CO's concerned eyes. He nodded and sighed. "Headache."  
  
"That was some bombshell. Finding out your friend has cancer. What type cancer is that-'glib-oma-form'?"  
  
"Glioblastoma Multiforme", John corrected. "Brain cancer. It's usually lethal."  
  
"I'm sorry." The two men walked to the car in silence. "You need to talk, you find me," Jack ordered quietly. John nodded, and satisfied, Jack climbed into the rental car.  
  
As John climbed back behind the wheel, Kenric's voice resounded through his head, "So much pain little one. Be aware of your friends-your comrades and do not turn away from what they offer. Be aware, little one, of those who are alone. Who have no one to see them through the pain." And in his mind, he saw once again, his cousin's bright, smiling face from long ago.  
  
TBC 


End file.
